Deep Devotion
by Conssunshine581
Summary: An annex to my other story "Blind Devotion." Gabriel sees how happy Castiel and Dean are together and decides to go to Stanford and pick up a Winchester of his very own. Sam is suspicious of his new admirer; is there something special about this man that he has known all his life and is starting to fall for?
1. Chapter 1

Well, I couldn't deny such an overwhelming plea for Sabriel! It's not my preferred Supernatural ship (Destiel always!), but there is no denying that Gabriel and Sam are pretty perfect for one another. So, here you go. Just think of this as an annex or huge deleted scene from Blind Devotion. I don't know yet how much overlap there will be-this story starts probably around the time Cas and Dean finally get together in BD. Gabe sees how happy they are together and decides to get a Winchester of his very own. It probably won't be as long (you know how persuasive and impatient Gabe is) but I'll have fun with it anyways. Anything you wanna see, let me know-I have no real plans for this one, so let's see what you can come up with! Hugs!

Sam Winchester sighed another melancholy sigh before taking a sip from his lukewarm latte. He had been trying to read the same page in his Law textbook for the last 30 minutes, but he was completely unable to focus long enough to draw any information from its pages. He flipped the top off of his beverage and drank the rest of the coffee in one large gulp. Maybe the rush of sugar and caffeine to his brain would help him get through this assignment. He still had 50 pages to read before his class in the morning but Sam knew he'd never get through it before he passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Life had been hard on the younger Winchester lately. A couple of weeks after he had last spoken to his brother on the phone, things had gone downhill. Sam had thought that he was doing fairly well for himself; getting into a well-respected Law school, having a pretty girlfriend, and being near the top of his Freshman class were all things he had taken for granted. He supposed it was cruel irony that, just when it seemed like Dean's life had suddenly started coming together with his angel and his card game winnings, his own life began to suck big-time.

Jess, Sam's girlfriend of three months, had come back to their apartment the next day, raging about her family drama. Sam, who had tried to be supportive through it all for her sake, had been trying to study for a test. She took his lack of interest in her bad temper as a lack of interest in their relationship and, after a long fight, gathered up her things and left. Sam couldn't say he blamed her. He was too caught up in his studying to be a proper boyfriend and she deserved someone who could give her the attention she deserved. He missed her, though, and her loss wore on him.

Without the extra rent money from Jess' job, Sam had then been forced to give up their apartment. He didn't have time to work more than a few hours a week at the university bookstore, and there was no way he'd ask Dean for more than his brother was already giving him. Luckily, he found an ad for a three-bedroom house shared with two other guys. _Un_luckily, the guys, as nice as they were, tended to party much too often for Sam's taste. He liked Ash and Garth well enough, but generally the house atmosphere was not conducive to sleep or studying.

So, now, here he sat in an abandoned corner of a dusty library at the far end of campus, trying to ready himself for tomorrow's lecture. Despite the copious amounts of coffee he had already consumed, his eyelids were starting to droop again. He was _this close_ to saying 'fuck it' and giving in to sleep right there at the library table. Maybe, if he just took a quick nap, he'd have enough energy to make it through his homework before he headed back to the house. Better yet, he could just sleep here and go home after the lecture tomorrow…

"Why so glum, chum?"

The voice came out of nowhere and Sam jumped in his seat, knocking over his Starbucks cup. He was instantly thankful that he had already drank all the coffee or it might have been really embarrassing. He looked across the table to see that he was suddenly sharing it with someone else. Surprised by this new development, Sam rubbed his eyes. He must have been even more tired than he thought if he hadn't even noticed someone taking a seat a couple of feet from him.

Sam instantly recognized that man who had interrupted his almost-nap. What he couldn't figure out was why he was suddenly, inexplicably, sitting at his table. He had known Gabriel for pretty much his whole life, ever since his remaining family had moved into the firehouse when he was one year old. He hadn't seen the man but infrequently; it was usually them passing on the stairs with Gabriel dragging himself home after a night out and Sammy heading off to school. They had spoken a few times, and once he had spent the night in Gabriel's apartment when their father had taken Dean to the emergency room when his brother fell out of a tree. He remembered the man as being quirky but kind and he couldn't help the confused smile that crossed his lips—it was nice to see a familiar face.

The man returned the smile, his much more cheeky than Sam's. "What's the matter, Sammy? Cat got your tongue?"

Sam ignored the nickname for the time being, more curious as to the man's presence at the moment. "Gabriel?" he asked unbelievingly, "What are you doing here?"

"I teach here," the man replied readily. At Sam's suspicious eyebrow raise, he added, "Recreational Theology."

The younger man wasn't sure he'd ever heard of such a class, but he supposed he hadn't noticed anything that didn't fit into his major. Besides, what reason would Gabriel have to lie to him? Still, he couldn't help the feeling that something about this meeting seemed a bit fishy.

"Ok, but what are you doing _here_? This is the auxiliary Law library," he pointed out. Not to mention an inconspicuous back corner that he had really had to search for to find.

Gabriel looked around him, as though just now noticing his surroundings. "Oh, must have gotten turned around." He focused his attention back on Sam. "But, what a coincidence running into you, Sammy. I have seen you in months. How's our little egg head doing?"

Sam raised another eyebrow at the possessive "our," but sighed and looked down at this empty cup—empty like his life, he thought. "Fine," he lied. Depression weighed heavily on him, but he didn't need to burden this guy with his problems. Gabriel probably had better things to do that listen to his sob story. Besides, what if word got back to Dean? The last thing Sam wanted to do was make his brother worry—Dean had enough on his plate at the moment without taking on his baby brother's problems as well.

"That 'fine' was the least convincing 'fine' in a long history of 'fines'," Gabriel told him bluntly.

"Look, Gabriel, it's nice to see you again, but I don't really want to talk about it." Sam hated to push the older man away, but he was defensive about his private life, not to mention he still had a ton of studying to do. He told Gabriel the latter as politely as possible.

The other man frowned, then shrugged it off. "I get it, Sammy, I'll hit the road. But, if you do feel like talking, here's my number." Sam blinked and all of a sudden Gabriel was holding his cell phone and programming in his number. Funny, Sam could have sworn he'd left his phone in his jacket pocket. He really needed some sleep.

He took the cell when the man handed it back. "Thanks, Gabe. I'm sure I'll see you around if you teach here." Surprising, really, that they hadn't run into one another before this. Oh well, different majors and all that.

"Any time, Sammy boy," the man said with a wide grin.

Sam blinked again and he was gone.

The younger Winchester work with a start when he got a text at 7 the next morning. He grabbed his phone, wiping crusted drool off his cheek with his other hand. His lecture started at 8, so he wasn't late, but without the text he might have slept right through it. He opened his phone and peered blearily at the message. It was sent from a boy he sat next to in his Law class. "Clz cncld. Prof sick. Win!"

Sam stared at the text for a few moments, letting the information permeate his tired brain. Then relief washed over him. Thank God! He hadn't been looking forward to the lecture without having read the material, and now he had an extra two days to study. Not only that, but now he could go home and catch some sleep before his next class at noon. He didn't want to speak too soon, but things were looking up. Happily, he started to gather his gear, stuffing everything back into his messenger bag. He reached for his coffee cup and nearly dropped with when he felt that it was full of liquid. Frowning in consternation, he lifted the lid and saw that there was a fresh, warm latte inside. He saw writing under his fingers around the cardboard holder, and moved them to look at it more closely. Printed in messy, swirly handwriting was the message, "3 Gabe."

That evening saw Sam doing some serious research. That was nothing out of the ordinary, of course, (Gabriel hadn't called him an "egg head" for nothing) but his research this time did not have anything to do with his homework. Fingering his long-empty coffee cup with his left hand, he used his right to manipulated his laptop's mouse. He pulled up the Stanford University homepage and clicked on Schools. Scrolling through the long list of majors offered, he clicked on the School of Humanities and Sciences. Under that heading he found what he was looking for: Religious Studies. Biting his lip, he went to the Course List and scoured it until he found what he was looking for, much to his surprise. There, in black and white text, was "Recreational Theology" listed under the Fall classes. And, next to the title was the name of the professor: Novak, Gabriel.

Sam let out the heavy breath he had been holding as he searched for the man's class. This was just too surreal for him. He had never expected to see anyone from Lawrence here in California, least of his family's elusive neighbor. And, even if he did teach here, what had he been doing in the Law library annex? Even Sam wasn't technically allowed in there yet, but Gabriel, a Religious Studies professor, certainly had no business there. This whole thing seemed a bit weird to Sam, but he couldn't put his finger on why.

He again eyed the cup Gabriel had written on. Why had the man come back with fresh coffee for him? They barely knew each other, so what was with the early morning drink? Sam must have just missed him, as the beverage was still hot. Strangely, he didn't find Gabriel's return creepy, just odd and unexpected. Well, the guy had always seemed eccentric—maybe he was just happy to see a familiar face as well and didn't know how to say it. Sam smiled. The gesture had been sweet, if peculiar. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to seek out a real friend in this town where he had so few…


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, first of all, you'll have to excuse my ignorance in this and later chapters. Just like I clearly know nothing about cars (sorry Dean!), I've never been to Stanford, so any details you read I got from the website. I did WAY too much research for someone writing fanfiction that happens to be set there, but whatever.^^'

Secondly, I apparently have no concept of the seasons or passage of time. I set "Blind Devotion" during the summer, but, according to that story, Sam had been at Stanford for three months, making this one set in September. So, let's do this. Let's say Sam went to Stanford in early June to look for an apartment, get set up, orientation, etc. before classes started in August. Sound good? Cool. Sorry for the confusion…^^'

Sam's workload increased over the next few days, so he didn't think about Gabriel again until an errand took him to the student union. It was on the other side of campus from his apartment, so he went on his day off in case there was a line at the financial aid office. He rarely went to the union, as he didn't have the time to socialize, so he wasn't even sure what was on that side of campus. It must have been fate that his path back through the Main Quad happened to take him right past the Religious Studies building. Sam paused as he passed the small, unassuming Building 70. Later, he might have argued that the sweeping cream-colored arches of the outside hallway called to him, inviting him in, but deep down he knew it was what was _inside_ that drew him closer.

Without thinking much about it, Sam pivoted, detouring from his projected route in favor of entering the Religious Studies sanctum. Once insides he discreetly checked his watch, and groaned. It seemed that the universe was conspiring against him. How was it that he just happened to be at this place just ten minutes into Gabriel's supposed lecture? Sam had memorized the time, date, and room number of Gabriel's class—accidentally, he told himself; he couldn't help it if he had a photographic memory!—and now, here he was, just in time to sneak in.

Sadly, it took no debate time whatsoever to convince himself to go take a peek at his friend's (?) lecture. Sam's curiosity overrode his good sense on this one and he'd be damned if he didn't satisfy it by seeing actual proof of the strange coincidence that Gabriel really did happen to teach at the same university where Sam went to school. He set his tense shoulders, readjusted his backpack, and marched down the hallway, straight to classroom 6A.

Luckily, the door was propped open to allow a breeze to flow through the large lecture hall. This was facilitated by having both the emergency doors at the bottom open, which was probably some sort of important building fire code violation, but it occurred to Sam that Gabriel was not the kind of man who cared about things like that. A quick glace around the room revealed it was nearly full with around 100 students. There were only a few empty seats in the back near the door, so Sam quickly took one on the end. He slid into the desk-chair as quietly as possible so as not to alert anyone to his elicit presence. Automatically, he got out a notebook and pen, still in student-mode although he had little intention of taking notes in a lecture that he was merely spying on.

Once he was situated, Sam turned his attention to the bottom of the lecture pit. The set-up was standard with a long, tall desk next to a rolling projector that took up most of the room on the floor. A blackboard stretched across the entirety of the back wall, and it was nearly covered in white chalk notes. The penmanship of the swirly, precise letters was quite familiar—it was the same handwriting as the note on the coffee cup Sam had found when he woke up in the library. Finally, the young man's gaze fell to the far side of the board where there, with his back turned to the crowd as he sketched out mote notes, was the small form of his ex-neighbor Gabriel.

Sam noted the memorable tawny-golden hair that swept back from the man's head to curl slightly above the nape of his neck. Gabriel may have been short, but what he lost in height, he made up for in other areas. His wide, masculine shoulders stretched his T-shirt and Sam could see the defined muscles of his back through it. His jeans were also almost obscenely tight so Sam could easily follow the lines of his strong legs up to the swell of his perfectly rounded ass. The pants looked like they had been made specifically for the man wearing them, because there was not an inch of give. Surely he wasn't supposed to dress like that as a professor? How the hell was anyone supposed to get any work done while staring at his well-sculpted body?

The younger Winchester gulped, feeling himself flush as his thoughts (and blood) headed south. What on Earth was wrong with him? Sure, he'd looked at guys before, even thought about sleeping with them once or twice (unlike his ultra-masculine brother, Sam didn't mind that he could appreciate both genders equally), but never had he begun salivating over someone so quickly. He'd known Gabriel for years, so why now, all of a sudden, did he want to divest the man of his too-tight clothes and start making out with him right here in his classroom? It was hard to tell with his brain frazzled, but Sam considered it maybe had something to do with the fact that Gabriel was the first person who took pity on him after his recent downward spiral. Gabriel was kind and familiar and God, why did he have to wriggle so much when he wrote on the freaking board?!

Eventually, the professor finished what he was writing and turned back around to address the class. "So," he said in his usual chipper voice, "That's why the Archangel Gabriel could kick Uriel's ass any day. Questions? Comments?" He put his hands up on his hips, surveying the room for upraised hands.

Sam choked a little. Was Gabriel insane? Wasn't this class supposed to be about religion? Sure, he knew that angels were not chubby cherubs but warriors of God, yet somehow Sam didn't think this was what the course description meant by "Recreational Theology." Pitting imaginary creatures against one another in a fictional duel for the amusement of the class? Wasn't Stanford supposed to have serious lessons? Sam couldn't answer any of those questions and he doubted that Gabriel could either.

A look of abject horror still on his face, Sam turned to see that a student did have his hand raised. Gabriel pointed to him and the young man stood, addressing his professor.

"Sir, are we assuming that the Angel Gabriel has access to his Horn?" the young man asked.

Gabriel pondered this. "Let's assume—for the sake of argument—that he does not. Does this change the results?"

A girl in the front row raised her hand to answer. When she stood, Sam could see that she was a busty blonde with too much make-up and a look of lust in her eyes that was obvious from all the way in the back. Sam found himself growling a little at the girl, and stopped, wondering what had come over him.

"Professor, I don't think the results would have changed at all. It's clear that _Gabriel_ is still the more powerful angel in Heaven. He still has his wits and charm and the angel blade. Uriel wouldn't stand a chance!"

"Wow, pretty _and_ brainy. Remind me to mark that on your midterm, Chastity," Gabriel said, giving the overexcited student a sultry wink. Sam rolled his eyes—did the man have to flirt back with his student? Not only was it as unprofessional as his clothes, did it have to be _that one_? She was so wrong for Gabriel, clearly she'd worked her way around campus if she was left with the handsome professor.

The man, still grinning, turned to sweep his gaze out over the remainder of the lecture hall. Sam tried to slump down in his seat, which didn't help hide him very much as he still towered over most every other student in the room. For just a second, Sam swore that Gabriel's gaze rested on him way in the back, but then the teacher moved on.

"Well," he said, resting one foot up on the first step that led out of the bowl, "who do _you_ think would win this hypothetical battle, Sam?"

Sam gasped, his hazel eyes going wide when Gabriel said his name. So he _had_ recognized him! Damn, this was such a bad idea! Now Gabriel was going to think he was stalking him or something! Sam was pretty sure he'd never been this embarrassed in his life. It just figured, too. As if things couldn't have gotten any worse lately, now he had alienated the one person who might have been a good friend. Nice going, Sam.

He cleared his throat, trying to think of some way to answer Gabriel, when another girl in the middle of the hall stood.

"The archangel Gabriel, without a doubt, Professor. Personally, I think Uriel should have a handicap, just to make things more interesting."

Gabriel laughed at her answer. "Nice one, Samantha. Let's say Gabriel promised not to use his six wings. Let's see how that might play out." With that, the man turned back to the chalkboard and started re-adding his sums.

Sam breathed a long sigh of relief. That had been close! Sam thought he was going to have a coronary when Gabriel said his name. This whole thing had been a terrible idea. He gathered up his gear, stuffed everything haphazardly into his backpack, and quickly slid out of his seat. With a final glance at Gabriel to make sure he hadn't turned out, Sam fled the lecture hall, not stopping his power walk until he was out of sight of the Religious Studies building.

That night, Sam tried to distract himself from his embarrassing stalking episode by making dinner for his housemates. He knew that neither of them ate well, preferring to raid the fridge for week-old party pizza rather than going to the store or cooking anything healthy. Sam made them all pot roast with carrots and potatoes, rolls, and chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

"Wow, Sam," Ash said when he woke up from his nap to find a real dinner on their kitchen card table. "Look at this spread! You'll make someone a great housewife someday."

Sam rolled his eyes at his friend. "Don't be mean or you won't get any more fancy dinners," he warned playfully. He really did enjoy cooking, and it had been a while since he'd gotten to do this for someone. The stray thought crossed his mind that Gabriel might like a home-cooked meal too, but Sam immediately squashed it, not wanting to think about the nutty professor while he had a perfectly good dinner to consume. When Garth came in from the garage, where he was tinkering with soundproofing the walls so he and Ash could start a band, they all sat down to eat. Sam let the conversation his friends were having keep his mind from wandering back to the class he had spied on.

After dinner, Sam conned the other two into doing the dishes and went to call his brother. It had been a few weeks since he'd spoken to Dean and Sam knew he should probably get in touch before his brother stormed into Stanford, demanding to know why Sam hadn't called him. Dean picked up quickly and sounded delighted to hear from him. Sam immediately felt guilty for making his brother worry and promised himself he would try to call him at least once a week from now on.

Inevitably, the conversation moved from his classes to his personal life, and Sam reluctantly admitted to Dean that Jessica had broken up with him and that his address had changed since they last spoke.

"What a bitch!" Dean raged, indignant that any girl would see fit to dump his hardworking, loyal-as-a-golden retriever-puppy little brother. "Give me her number and I'll call and give her a piece of my mind!"

Sam sighed, annoyed, but also a bit pleased at how his brother stuck up for him. It was like the old days when Sam got picked on in school and Dean was always there to beat up the bullies or yell at the teachers on his behalf. Sam was, of course, old enough to take care of his own problems by now, but it was nice to know that he still had someone on his side.

Speaking of people on his side, Sam couldn't help bringing up his new potential friend.

"So, how come you never told me that Gabriel moved?"

He could practically hear Dean's suspicious frown over the phone. "Ok, one, I wouldn't think you would care," he said, "and two, he hasn't moved. He still haunts the first floor of the firehouse like always."

"But, then, why is he in Stanford with me?" Sam knew he was whining, but this situation just kept getting weirder and weirder. Why couldn't his life ever just be simple? He knew he should forget about the whole Gabriel thing, but Sam never could resist a good mystery, and this Gabriel thing was turning out to be a bigger and bigger one with every odd clue that he uncovered.

"Come again?" Dean asked.

"For real!" Sam insisted. "He came by the Law library the other day when I was studying and told me he was a professor here. I was curious, so I snuck into one of his classes today. He really does teach here. I looked him up on the university website and it says he's been teaching here for three years. Now, I'm not a physics major, but I know that even with a warp drive that's a hell of a commute."

"Oh my God, my brother is a huge nerd," Dean wailed on the other end of the line.

"I'm serious, Dean! There's something fishy going on. Either Gabriel's got the world's most life-like doppelganger, or he's in two places at the same time." He knew he really shouldn't let this thing get to him—he should be focusing on his assignments due tomorrow—but Sam couldn't seem to let it go. This was all a little spooky and he wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery as soon as possible.

"Now, Sammy, you know that's impossible. I told you that frou-frou espresso crap would melt your brain. Switch to decaf and—"

Sam heard his brother pause and listen to a low, gravelly voice on his end of the line. He assumed that the voice belonged to Castiel, the angel. He strained to hear what he was saying, but all he got were a few whispered words here and there. He caught his name, and Gabriel's but that was about it. A few moments later, his brother was back on the phone.

"Sorry, Sammy, we don't know anything about Gabriel going AWOL. You know him; sometimes he was gone for days. He doesn't really have a concept of time. I wouldn't worry about it. Just keep studying. Cas said, when he's feeling up to it, we'll come out and visit. Maybe in a couple weeks, ok? Keep your nose clean and get back to work."

Sam sighed and told Dean 'good-bye' before hanging up. Well, that conversation had been a bust. He sighed and lay back on his bed, staring at the dingy grey ceiling. There had to be some explanation for Gabriel's seeming ability to be in two cities at once. Sam resolved to find out what it was and told himself it was merely so he could focus his attention back on studying. Still, he went to bed thinking of Gabriel at the head of the class, turning to write on the chalkboard and showing off his slim, enticing body. The man groaned as he tossed and turned in his rickety bed—he really needed to get laid if he was thinking about Gabriel in that way.

The rest of the week passed thankfully quickly and Sam got enough work done that he allowed himself to be dragged off to one of the local student bars by Ash and Garth on Saturday night. He wasn't normally a big drinker, but Sam really needed to unwind, so after his second beer, he broke away from his group of friends and headed to the bar for another. He knew he was a lightweight (he already had a nice buzz going and weaved a little when he walked) but he figured it was the weekend and he deserved a break. When the bartender—a pretty redheaded girl who looked barely legal to drink alcohol let alone sell it—came back with his refill, someone behind him spoke to her over his shoulder.

"I'll have whatever he's heaving, plus a couple shots."

Sam winced—he knew exactly who was behind him and he was already much too drunk to deal with him at the moment. He took a long gulp of his drink, and then turned to face the short, cheerful-looking professor.

"Howdy, Sammy," Gabriel said, grabbing Sam's beer and taking a sip. Presumably he was too impatient for his own drink to arrive. "Fancy seeing you here." He tried to hand Sam back the pint glass, but Sam frowned and took the fresh one from the bartender instead.

"Hi Gabriel," he said. "Or, should I call you 'Professor'?" He knew he sounded catty, but he was kind of a whiny drunk. Why did Gabriel have to be here tonight—why couldn't he show up when Sam felt more able to keep up with the verbal sparring that seemed to be their prime form of communication?

Gabriel didn't seem fazed by Sam's tone. "Gabriel is fine. Or, 'Master'. Whichever you prefer is fine with me, Sammy."

"And quit calling me that," Sam added for good measure, deflecting the strange tingle he felt when Gabriel said "Master". Only Dean called him by the cutesy name "Sammy:, and only because Sam couldn't persuade his stubborn older brother otherwise.

"Aww, now, don't be such a stick in the mud, Sasquatch. C'mon, let's go find a table. You look like you're about to keel over, and I don't want you squashing me." Sam wanted to protest, but Gabriel was right—the beer was going straight to his head. He watched the older man grab their shots and weave through the crowd towards the back of the bar where there were a few open tables. Sam slid into a seat and blinked owlishly at Gabriel as he sipped his drink. During the walk from the bar to the table, he had forgotten why he was mad at the other man. He had not, however, forgotten the man's mysterious presence in Stanford, let alone his penchant to showing up wherever Sam was.

"So, how are your classes going so far?" Gabriel asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Are you following me?" Sam countered. Turned out he was also an honest drunk.

His friend smirked. "Well, now, right down to it, huh? Tell you what, Bigfoot. You want a straight answer, you're gonna have to pay for it."

Sam looked up from playing with the wet rim of his glass. "Huh?" he said eloquently.

"Here's the deal," Gabriel explained, holding up a finger to get Sam's attention. "You can ask me one question and I will give you one truthful answer, _but_, first you have to drink a shot. Each question is one shot. Take it or leave it."

That was a lot for Sam's overworked and now fuzzy brain to understand, but he nodded anyways. He took the shot glass when Gabriel handed it to him, and downed it with a grimace. His head immediately spun and it took him a moment to refocus on the man sitting across from him. "So, are you following me?" he wanted to know. He hoped the headache he was bound to have in the morning was worth the answer.

Gabriel mused over the question, twirling a bit of his bronze hair around a finger before he looked straight at Sam and said, "Yes."

"Why?"

"Ah-ah-ah," Gabriel admonished, "That was one question. You want another question, it's down the hatch, Sammy-boy."

Sam sighed, but took the other shot, his eyes crossing as the alcohol seemed to go straight to his head. "Ok, why are you following me?"

Gabriel rested his chin on his hands, keeping his brown eyes on Sam's. Had his eyes always had that ring of gold in them, or was Sam more drunk than he thought? "There are several reasons, but for now let's go with, you seemed like you needed a friend."

Sam frowned. That didn't seem all that truthful, but he figured all the drinks in the bar wouldn't get him a straight answer from his tricky acquaintance. "Fine, so, we're friends now? Just like that?"

"Just like that," Gabriel said with a casual shrug. "Anything else you're dying to know, or have you had enough alcohol poisoning for one night?" He motioned to the bartender and held up two fingers, then pointed to himself. She nodded, and went back to work. A few moments later, a waitress stopped by their table and dropped off another pair of shots and an onion blossom.

"You'd better eat something, Yogi, or you're gonna pass out," Gabriel advised, helping himself to the heart attack-on-a-plate.

Sam mechanically followed suit. "How come you never said you taught at Stanford? You knew I was going here—you helped me load the car the day I left." Gabriel shook his head and pointed to the shot glass. Sam gave an exaggerated sigh and downed his third, knowing he would definitely regret it in the morning.

The man pulled off another hunk of deep-fried onion and munched it thoughtfully before answering. "Technically, I wasn't teaching here when you were accepted—I was on sabbatical."

"But, you still had to have known you were coming back when I left," Sam protested. He could barely see straight, but something about Gabriel's answer bugged him.

"Not technically. That was three months before classes started."

Sam choked on his onion petal and quickly took the last shot, both to clear his airway and because he had to say what he did next. "But, wait, that makes it sound like you decided to come back _after_ I left!" That couldn't be right, could it? Why would Gabriel suddenly start teaching again just because Sam left for school? It seemed that as soon he learned one thing about Gabriel, he uncovered several more interesting and troubling questions.

Gabriel grinned and Sam could have sworn he saw the man's eyes flash bright gold under the dim overhead lights. "Is that a question?" he asked silkily. When Sam didn't say anything, merely gaped at him, Gabriel went on. "Yes, I came back after you left. Someone had to keep an eye on our little Sammy."

Sam just couldn't wrap his mind around what he was hearing. What on Earth had possessed the man to come back just to be near him? Their relationship has always been a bit odd, but this was unheard of. Gabriel had been in the downstairs apartment since the first day the Winchesters moved in, and Sam had known Gabriel since he was one year old. For twenty years they had only lived a floor away from each other, so some might say they were close, but Sam knew they hardly ever talked. Once in a while Gabriel would stop to chat on the stairs, or come over for dinner in the early days before John died, but they had hadn't been what one would call friends. So why, if they barely knew one another, did Gabriel care about him enough to move halfway across the country?

That reminded Sam of his conversation with his brother. "But, Dean said you still live in Lawrence."

Gabriel sniffed and muttered what Sam's alcohol-soaked brain translated as. "Your brother should worry about his own angel." He may have said more, but Sam hiccupped and then his head began to throb with a vengeance. He moaned at the unwelcome pain and put his head down on his arms. Gabriel's voice sounded muffled when the man said, "Looks like it's time to get you home, Champ." Sam felt the other man come around his side of the table and help him up, but he didn't bother opening his eyes, instead taking the opportunity to lean into Gabriel. He may not have known the man very well personally, but Sam knew that he could trust Gabriel to get him back to his house.

He must have passed out, Sam reasoned later, for the next thing he knew he was in his bed, sans shoes. He could immediately tell that the night was past and it was now early morning. As soon as he opened his eyes, Sam's head began to pound and he groaned, trying to bury his head in his pillow. After a few minutes of unending torture, he decided he wasn't going to get any more sleep and sat up, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. It was then that he noticed something sitting on his small nightstand. Propped up against a fresh glass of water, was a silver package of painkiller tablets and a small folded note. After downing two of the small white pills, Sam opened the piece of paper.

"There's one question that you should have asked last night but didn't. Since I got you drunk, here's a freebie.

Question: If you're following me, how do you always know where I am?

Answer: We have had a bond since you were very small.

When you figure everything out, I have no doubt you know where to find me."


	3. Chapter 3

Hey everyone, thanks for sticking with me on this story! First I was working through NaNoWriMo then I caught a cold, but now I'm hopefully back on track. It's definitely not my best chapter, but the next one will be worth the wait I promise! Please R&R!^^

As much as Sam tried to avoid thinking about Gabriel's cryptic note over the next few days, the topic kept swimming to the surface of his brain. At first he was convinced that he had no idea what his crazy new friend (?) was talking about and dismissed it as another of Gabriel's unfunny jokes at his expense. However, the more he thought about it, the more fuzzy, half-forgotten memories flitted behind his eyelids. The meaning behind what the images were trying to show Sam eluded the man for the time being, but Sam was determined to see this mystery through to its end.

The way he did so mainly consisted of thinking as hard as he could about Gabriel whenever he had a few moments to spare. This turned out to be rather easy and increasingly inappropriate. Sam kept trying to picture Gabriel in his past, but it seemed that no matter how hard he tried to remember that fleeting _something_, it was always replaced by a more modern and less-clothed man. Sure, Sam could admit that Gabriel was hot, but now he feared that all this thinking was starting to make him develop a crush on the older man. That was just what he needed—another love disaster to perfect his already pathetic existence.

Thursday rolled around and Sam was no closer to figuring out what Gabriel had meant about them having a bond since Sam was small. The student had pretty much given up ever remembering what there was between them, but it wasn't so easy to keep images of Gabriel from popping up in his mind at inopportune times. During a History test in which Sam was writing an essay about an ancient battle between two Scottish clans, he found himself getting hard while fantasying about the man in a kilt. In his Philosophy lecture, Sam was suppose to prepare a debate as part of a group project, but the only topic he could come up with was whether Gabriel's eyes or lips were the sexiest part of his face. It really wasn't like him to get so distracted, but, then, Gabriel seemed to be the exception to a lot of things.

It was inevitable that he began to have more than friendly feelings towards the other man, Sam supposed as he walked from Philosophy to Law. Gabriel had gone out of his way to be Sam's friend, and he had appeared at a time when the younger man was feeling particularly low. It didn't help that his small, compact body was sexy as sin and every word that came out of his mouth sounded like a proposition. Nor did Sam want to admit that it had been quite a while since he had been intimate with anyone, not since Jess broke his heart. All of this combined to make him rather distracted.

This was proved in his last class of the day. At the end of the lecture, his Law professor handed back the graded tests from Tuesday and Sam was horrified to see that he had only scored a B-. Any other student would have been happy with such a grade, but Sam was instantly devastated. This would bring down his GPA in the class. It would show up on his student record. It might even destroy his chances to pass the class with the A he desperately needed. He could barely even remember taking the test—all the answers seemed to end with Gabriel's familiar leer flashing behind his eyes. Frustrated and dejected, Sam left the building, clutching the offending paper in his fist.

He didn't realize where he was headed in his upset daze until he ended up not back at his apartment, but across campus in front of the Religious Studies department. He paused on the sidewalk, staring up at the graceful arches of the building's façade. What the hell was he doing here? Wasn't thinking about Gabriel the problem in the first place? He should try avoiding the man—not that it made a difference, as Gabriel always seemed to know where he was.

"Sammy?" came a voice from down the sidewalk. Sam turned to the sound of his name and saw the very man he had been wishing to avoid coming towards him. His arms were loaded with a stack of papers and he had a smart leather satchel slung over one rounded shoulder. His bronze hair was mussed like he'd been teaching while facing a strong wind, but Sam suspected with was just styled that way. Again, Gabriel was wearing pants just a little too small which framed his lower body perfectly and Sam wasn't sure if he was relived or saddened that he couldn't see the back.

"I thought that was you," Gabriel confirmed, hurrying forward. "What are you doing in my neck of the woods?"

Sam coughed a little, shuffled his feet. He honestly didn't know and he was too distraught over his B- to think of a quick excuse.

Gabriel must have caught on to his mood, for he toned down his enthusiasm a bit. "Hey, you ok, Moose? You look like someone kicked your puppy."

The younger man huffed and looked away. He really didn't want to explain his troubles to Gabriel right now. Besides, the man clearly didn't take school too seriously—he'd probably laugh at Sam for being so upset over a passing grade. "It's nothing," he muttered.

This time Gabriel frowned and inched closer, looking up into Sam's tormented face. His voice was different when he said, "Really, Sam, tell me what's wrong."

It was the name that made Sam give in and lock eyes with the short professor. He was fairly certain that Gabriel had never used his actual name before—with him it was all nicknames or childish variations of his given name. The lack of his usual playfulness and the sound of sincere concern in his voice broke through Sam's defenses. Gabriel's brown eyes were piercing and unsettling in their earnestness. Sam had never seen him so serious and it made him wonder if the cheerful laughter he normally wore was just a façade. Was he catching a glimpse of the real Gabriel?

He sighed and stuffed his wadded up test paper onto the other man's stack of essays. "I got a B minus, ok? It's no big deal, I just…" Sam couldn't explain in mere words just how important his college career was to him. He had dreamed of being a lawyer all his life, but only in the past few years had he even dared to think it might actually happen. It would be a poor way to repay his brother's many financial sacrifices if he screwed it all up with a stupid average grade.

To his surprise, Gabriel reached up and touched his palm to Sam's cheek. With anyone else that gesture would have seemed weird, even among friends, but Gabriel made it seem natural and comforting and Sam didn't fight it. "Aww, Sammy, that is a big deal. But, an egghead like you, I'm sure you'll make it up. C'mon, I'll take you somewhere and we'll take your mind off this grade for a while." His hand slid down to tuck itself under Sam's elbow, urging him forward.

Sam resisted a little. "I don't want to go to another bar," he protested. He remembered vividly what had happened last time he drank with Gabriel and he did not care for a repeat of his epic headache.

Gabriel chuckled and tugged Sam along with strength that was surprising for a man of his size. "No, no beer for you for a while, you light-weight. I've got something better in mind." Without much of a choice, the despondent Sam allowed Gabriel to shuffle him off across the quad. In a few minutes they arrived at the Union and Gabriel led Sam straight to his favorite coffee shop. It was little more than a kiosk and a few tables shoved into an out-of-the-way alcove, but they served the best coffee on campus. The professor sat Sam down, dumped his papers negligently on the table, and went to order for them both.

When Gabriel returned, he handed Sam a warm mug. Sam took a tentative sip and found the drink to be his usual order of a soy chai latte. A glance at the other man showed that Gabriel had ordered something that looked to be at least half whipped cream with caramel and sprinkles on top.

"How did you know what I liked?" Sam asked. Not that he was complaining about his beverage, but it was still pretty creepy how Gabriel seemed to know everything about him.

The man rested his chin on his palm and turned his head sideways to look at Sam. "You still haven't figured it out yet? Smarty-pants like you, I expected you to get the clue sooner."

Sam scowled at the professor over his mug. "I have no idea what you are talking about. You follow me around like a stalker, you're nice to me when you have no reason to be, you act like this is all some big mysterious joke, and then you take me to my favorite place on campus just because I got a stupid B-."

"I thought your favorite place on campus was that musty old library," Gabriel interjected.

The Winchester's frown deepened. "What I mean is, I can't figure you out. Every once in a while I think there might be something that I can't remember about you from when I was little," he admitted, "but when I think about it too hard I lose it. Now I can't get you out of my head and it's bugging me."

Gabriel latched on to that last statement like a terrier after a rat. "You can't get me out of your head?" he teased, turning the full effect of his flirtatious smile on big brown eyes on Sam. "Now, isn't that interesting news?" He took a suggestive sip of his drink, darting his tongue out to lap up a mouthful of the creamy white topping.

Sam's stomach clenched and he twitched uncomfortably. What the hell was it about the man that made him so inexplicably attractive to Sam? Yes, he was a familiar reminder of home, which was comforting. Yes, he was a cute little ball of sexy goodness. And, yes, he was one of the few people since Jess who had made Sam feel like a real person again.

But, there was also something deeper there, something that pulled Sam towards this strange man whether he wanted to be pulled or not. Fighting it was proving to be too difficult, but Sam was afraid to give in as well. He knew somewhere inside of him that he could love Gabriel if he let himself, but how did he know this man wouldn't hurt him like Jess had? Sam had learned the hard way not to take risks with his heart.

"It's not like I can help it," Sam muttered before taking a large gulp of his latte.

"Aww, now, don't get all defensive, Moose." He looked up at Sam from under his lashes. "If it's any consolation, I can't stop thinking about you either. In a romantic way, not a stalker way," Gabriel clarified.

Sam rolled his eyes and decided to change to subject. There was still something he couldn't quite figure out that maybe Gabriel could clear up for him. "How old are you anyways?" Even IF they ever got together—and that was a big IF as far as the circumspect Sam was concerned—Gabriel had been around since Sam was a baby. That was one hell of a cradle-robbing age-gap, even if the man still only looked about 30-something. Sam couldn't remember him well from his childhood years, but the man hardly seemed to have aged.

Gabriel pretended to look affronted. "Sam, you can't just ask people how old they are!" When Sam gave him a bitchface, he relented. "Twenty seven," he lied easily.

The other man snorted. "_I'm_ twenty."

"Well, you could pass for a toddler with that look on your face."

Unamused, Sam kept staring at Gabriel until the man sighed and said, "Let's go with thirty-seven, then. Does it really matter?"

Sam said he supposed it didn't—he just wanted a straight answer out of the man for once.

Gabriel grinned. "Well, I can't promise you too many of those, but what I can guarantee is that you'll never regret being with me."

The man canted his head. "Is that what you've wanted all along? To get in my pants? Cause, that's kind of disturbing."

"Then here's another straight answer for you—no. Honestly, I just wanted to be your friend. I've always looked out for you, Sammy. Think of me as your guardian angel. But," Gabriel added, opening his hands to gesture at all of Sam, "look at you, grown up all big and strong and nerdy. How in Heaven could I resist?" He eyed Sam, trying to gauge his reaction. "Tell you what, Mooselette. Why don't you come back to my place tonight? We'll order in, watch a movie, trash talk your Philosophy professor."

"That's all?" Sam said warily. It wasn't that he didn't want to give in to Gabriel's wiles, but he didn't want to go too fast before he had time to test the water. He was still emotionally fragile following the Jess incident and Gabriel was still a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

"That's all, you big girl," the man said with an indulgent chuckle. "Now finish your drink and let's hit the road. My car's in the faculty lot behind the Religion building."

Sam did as he was told, a bit in a daze about how quickly Gabriel seemed to make decisions. He couldn't lie, however—he was excited to be able to spend some uninterrupted time with his new friend. It had been a while since he let himself kick back and simply hang out with someone he liked. Sure, Garth and Ash were entertaining, but their idea of a good time was shot-gunning beer and having belching contests. Not exactly Sam's cup of chai tea.

He followed Gabriel back outside and around to the W lot behind the building where he taught. It was not hard to stop the professor's ostentatious car—the cherry red '65 Mustang with flames licking the sides from front to tail was situated horizontally over three separate parking spaces at the end of the lot. Gabriel unlocked the doors and threw his stack of papers into the back, the loose sheets scattering all over the white leather seats.

"Hop in, Sammy," he said, smiling at the impressed look on the other man's face. Sam had inherited a love of classic cars from his father and brother and he was practically drooling over the pristine old muscle car. It wasn't quite as impressive as his brother's "Baby", but it was a close second. He got in and put his seatbelt on as Gabriel blasted some Metallica before they hit the road. They had driven a few miles west before Sam realized that Gabriel didn't live in Stanford—either that, or he was kidnapping Sam and taking him to an undisclosed location.

Sam should have known by the state of the man's car where they were headed, but it was still a surprise when the reached Atherton. As far as he knew, it was in the top five of America's most expensive zip codes and one of the wealthiest cities in the US. His eyes were bugging out of his head by the time they pulled up outside a huge, elegant mansion. If asked, Sam would have later described it as a neoclassical Gregorian villa, but at the moment he was far too busy taking in the sight of Gabriel's home to even think about trying to categorize it.

Gabriel parked in the long driveway and got out, gesturing for Sam to follow him up the walk to the front door. He let them into a foyer than alone must have cost as much as a small house to decorate, then on into the kitchen. Granite countertops held a large number of modern chrome appliances and the sun from the large glass patio doors highlighted a cheery breakfast nook.

Sam numbly took the bottle of $10 spring water that Gabriel handed him from the double fridge. "How…how can you afford all this on a teacher's salary? You…you're not squatting here are you?"

The other man gave a full-bellied laugh at Sam's distress. "No, Stretch, I didn't murder the wealthy businessman who lived here before I did…" His pause made Sam blanche and he continued to laugh. "Let's just say I've got a large trust fund. I only teach because I love molding young impressionable minds." From any other professor that might have sounded sincere, but from Gabriel it merely sounded sinister.

"Then why do you live in a two-bedroom half-a-firehouse in Lawrence?" Sam demanded. If Gabriel could afford a place like this in Atherton, what on earth was he doing pretending to haunt a flat in the Midwest? It seemed like a bit of a step down.

The man shook his head. "I told you, Big Bird—guardian angel. Besides, this house is a recent acquisition. You know," he added, sizing Sam up, "I've got more than enough rooms. You should think about moving in here. The neighborhood's nice and quiet and I've got a huge library."

Sam snorted at the offer and set down the water on the table, untouched. "What is this, _Beauty and the Beast_? Are you going to lock me away in a tower?" He hoped his sarcasm covered up his surprise. He couldn't believe Gabriel's nerve. First he admitted to liking Sam, then the promised to keep his hands to himself for the evening. Now he was asking Sam to move it with him? Sam was frankly a bit flattered that his wild, crazy, _rich_ man wanted to be with him at all, but he didn't need a sugar daddy or whatever.

Gabriel answered his snort with a scoff of his own. "Well, that's hardly fair—we're both too beautiful for one of us to play the Beast." He reached into a side drawer in the kitchen and pulled out of wad of take-away menus, which he handed to Sam. "Pick whatever you want. I've got a quick errand to take care of then I'll be back to order for us." Sam wanted to ask what Gabriel was up to now, but his stomach chose that moment to start rumbling, reminding him that it was nearly dinnertime. He sighed and took a seat at the small dining table before shuffling through the impressive collection of area menus.

By the time Sam had settled on a vegan place across town, Gabriel reappeared in the kitchen from wherever he'd run off to. Sam told him his order and Gabriel called it in along with his own meal choice. "Twenty minutes," he told Sam after hanging up. "How about a tour while we wait?"

Sam accepted only to keep from awkwardly standing in the man's kitchen staring at him. He was honestly grateful that Gabriel was such an easy host or this evening could get very uncomfortable very quickly. Sure, they had known each other for nearly as long as Sam had been alive, and the man really did seem like a nice guy, if strange, but there was still that niggling feeling in the back of Sam's mind that told him there was something big he was missing.

Gabriel happily took Sam from room to room (there ended up being 6 bedrooms), nattering on about the décor and this and that knick-knack. While they walked, Sam tried putting together more pieces of the puzzle his life had become. He let Gabriel's voice wash over him as he once again tried to place the man in his childhood. Gabriel had been there since the Winchesters moved in, a few weeks after Mary died in a house fire. Sam was one year old, and wouldn't have remembered the man downstairs.

The earliest memory of Gabriel that he could dredge up was when Sam had just started first grade. Some of the other kids had teased him because of his short stature and long hair and as soon as he got home, he ran to the garage and found a corner to cry in away from the judgmental eyes of his tough father and brother. Gabriel had been sitting on the hood of one his own cars, alternately sipping a Coke and sucking on a lollipop.

_Hey, little tiger,_ he had said, crouching down to be at eye-level with the boy. He produced a chocolate bunny from seemingly nowhere and handed it to the kid before ruffling his hair. _Don't let the bullies get you down. I promise you one day you'll be big enough to beat them all up for just looking at you funny._

The boy gave the bunny's ear a tentative lick. _But, I don't want to beat anyone up,_ the young Sam had said. He was very particular about violence, as anything of the sort reminded him of the mother he had never known.

Gabriel had laughed and stood, flashing the kid a wink and a winning smile. _You're one of the good ones, Sammy. Don't ever change._

Sam found himself smiling fondly at the comforting memory. He hadn't thought that far back in a while. Still, as happy as it had been, something told him that he had gone _too_ far back in his recollections. The man sighed and refocused on Gabriel's waxing poetic on the huge marble tub that was the focal point of the master bathroom. Under his feet, the floor was covered in small mosaic tiles with a dolphin motif, the animals swimming in a circle around the tub. It looked very posh and luxurious and Sam found himself imagining how often he could use it if he lived here.

The ring of the doorbell (which sounded like an ancient gong deep in the house) interrupted their tour of the pool area out back. Gabriel told Sam to make himself at home then hurried off to get their food. He was back in what seemed like no time carrying their food in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. He sat Sam down at one on the patio tables and produced elegant plates and cutlery from a nearby hutch. Sam had half a mind to refuse the wine in its delicate glass, but he was too polite so he sipped at it gingerly.

Halfway through the meal, Gabriel leaned back casually in his chair and fixed his gaze on Sam. "So, Lofty," he said, "how are you coming on your little memory land scavenger hunt? I have to say, I've given you two huge clues today, but they seem to have gone right over your head—which, let's face it, is saying something."

Sam scowled at him for the comment. "Nowhere. Just because you knew me when I was little doesn't mean we have a 'bond'. Plenty of people have that, but that doesn't mean they know where the other is at all times."

"Correct on both accounts," the man said with a nod. "What we have is special."

The taller man twitched an eyebrow. "Define 'special'," he said. There was no way that didn't sound creepy.

Gabriel laughed. "How in Heaven did a lug like you get into Stanford if you don't even know the definition of a simple word like that?" he teased.

Sam realized that questioning the man was getting him nowhere, so he bit annoyedly into another slice of pita bread and chewed while glaring at the man across the table.

"You look like an angry squirrel," Gabriel observed. He sighed and sat up straighter in his chair. "Look, Sam, you're making this too complicated. Just search your feelings. Somewhere deep down you know we have a connection."

"Ok, Obi-Wan. But you know how weird you sound, right?" Seriously, the guy was several fries and a burger short of a Happy Meal.

"So I've been told by the rest of my family. I take it as a compliment," Gabriel said proudly, his tawny eyes gleaming with mischief.

Sam rolled his eyes—that did not surprise him at all. What did surprise him was why he didn't just walk away from this strange man and his silly games. He should be home studying to make up for his B-, but yet here he was, hanging out with a man who professed to be his friend with whom he shared a mysterious bond. His life was so messed up.

After dinner, Gabriel showed Sam to the media room. It was basically like a mini-theatre, but instead of red velvet seats, there were Lazy-Boys. There was, however, a popcorn machine and a nacho cheese warmer, both of which Gabriel made use of and piled high a tray for each of them with snack food and candy, even thought they had only just finished dinner.

"Ok, I just rented a couple yesterday," Gabriel was telling Sam as the other man watched from his chair as he ruffled through a stack of DVDs. "Looks like you have your choice of _Constantine _or _Legion_." He held both movies up triumphantly, showing off the covers. Sam immediately used his deductive skills to figure out a trend: hot men with wings.

"Uh, either, I guess. They're both kind of religious, aren't they? Are you watching them for your class?"

Gabriel blinked, then looked down at the DVDs in his hands. "Huh, that might actually be an interesting idea. Thanks, Sammy." Sam chuckled—wasn't he supposed to have his lesson plans ready for the semester? Of course, he may have just done the class a favor. After hearing Gabriel's "who could beat who's ass" lecture the other day, he figured that even _Constantine_ might have more factual content that Gabriel's syllabus.

In the end he opted for _Legion_, as it seemed like it might have more of a plot than a comic movie. Gabriel settled in his chair beside Sam and pulled his tray of cavities and heartburn onto his lap, happily digging in as the opening credits began to play. Sam picked at the popcorn, eating a few kernels here and there as the watched the show commence.

It became immediately apparent that Gabriel was a talker. Normally it might have annoyed Sam, who preferred to watch a film in silence, but since he didn't really care about the movie, he found it more amusing than disturbing. In-between stuffing his face with Sour Patch Kids and Buncha Crunch, he dutifully pointed out the many errors the producers had made in the movie. If Michael had really fallen from Heaven, he said, he would have had to rip out his Grace first, not cut off his wings, which were usually incorporeal.

"What's it to you?" Sam demanded, abandoning any hope he had of actually watching the film in peace. "I don't know what you're talking about, but it means the same thing, doesn't it? That angel is willing to go through great physical and emotional pain to do what he thinks is right. His loyalty is both is greatest asset and his tragic flaw as a hero."

Gabriel chuckled. "This isn't film class, Lurch, you don't have to analyze every scene. Although," he added as an afterthought, "You really should pay attention to the religious aspects, even if they are inaccurate."

That reminded Sam. "I've been meaning to ask. I don't want to pry, but I never knew you were so into religion. Not enough to teach a class about it anyway."

The man gave Sam a withering look. "Don't you think my name might have something to do with it?"

Sam frowned, thinking that over. "Oh, you mean your parents named you after an angel. Were they religious?"

Gabriel choked on a Mike and Ike as he laughed at Sam's answer. "Something like that. I guess I really should stop meddling if your concentration is this far off," he said. Sam chose to ignore that cryptic statement and went back to the movie—talking with Gabriel was impossible sometimes. Why was he so against opening up and talking about himself once in a while?

As the film drew to the close—with Gabriel commenting on how the script had gotten Michael and Gabriel completely switched in character—Sam yawned a little and stretched in his chair. Gabriel cut himself off when he noticed.

"Aww, Sammy, the night is young. You can't be tired yet!"

Sam begged to differ. "I always go to be around ten."

"But tomorrow is Friday—you don't have any classes, so we can hang out again," Gabriel said, sounding like a toddler who wanted to stay up just five more minutes past his bedtime.

Sam sighed. "You know I have to do my homework sometime. I have to get it done tomorrow because I heard Garth and Ash planning a "party weekend". Of course, for them every weekend is a party weekend so I don't know what the difference is…"

Gabriel came to sit on the arm of his chair. "Why don't you do it here, then? I have to teach tomorrow so I'll be out of your hair most of the day. Then we can have dinner again when I get back."

The taller man swallowed and scooted away a little from Gabriel's sudden proximity. He had been true to this word and hadn't tried to make a move on Sam all night (other than several suggestive comments, but Sam was beginning to see that was just his personality). That didn't mean Sam hadn't been occasionally thinking about his host at inappropriate times. When he had a bit of hummus on the corner of his mouth, Sam had had a wild desire to lean forward and lick it off. During the movie, listening to Gabriel's often hilarious commentary had somehow gotten Sam hard—if Gabriel was this passionate about a simply film, how much more would he be in bed? And don't even get him started on all the possibilities the pool presented.

This strange pull he felt for Gabriel was getting harder and harder (hah!) to resist. He may be a weird guy, but he was also funny and sexy and rather sweet when given the chance. How was Sam supposed to withstand that kind of attraction? He found that he could just be himself with Gabriel—the man never minded that he could be grumpy or nerdy or clumsy—and that was a rare thing among couples. Sam found himself wondering just how bad things with Gabriel could really be if he let himself give in. Gabriel was so close right now—the heat of his small body was so close to Sam's arm, warming him, making him feel pliable and happy.

"So?" Gabriel prompted when Sam didn't answer quickly. "What do you say?"

Sam looked up into the man's shiny golden eyes and he found he couldn't refuse. "Fine. But no bothering me until I'm done with my homework."

Gabriel laughed and leaned over to peck the other man's cheek affectionately. "Sam, you would give Saint Thomas Aquinas a run for his money. And believe me, that guy was as stuffy as they come." He slid off the chair and offered Sam his arm. "Come on then, Sasquatch, let's get you to bed."


	4. Chapter 4

Hey everyone! The last chapter didn't get any reviews, so I hope you all haven't given up on this story! I promise I'm making an effort to finish it. To prove it, here is another chapter just for you. There is sex, and then stupid Moose sabotages himself. Classic Sam.^^ Let me know if there's anything you want to see in this story-I'm open to suggestions!

It occurred to Sam when he work up the next morning in one of the guest rooms that he didn't have his study materials with him to work on, let alone any personal items to get him through the morning. However, one look around his poshly furnished room showed him that whatever other shortcomings Gabriel may possess, thoroughness was not one of them. Stacked neatly on an antique writing table across from the bed was a tall stack of his textbooks and notes. On the dresser next to them was a pile of his own clothes for him to choose from, along with a toiletry bag. He really didn't want to know how Gabriel had snuck all those things out of his house, but he decided on simply being grateful that they had been provided.

As he brushed his teeth in his huge double bathroom, Sam thought again on the parallels between his situation and the story "Beauty and the Beast." He hadn't heard Gabriel come in early this morning to deliver his things—rather it was as though he was a guest in an enchanted mansion with invisible servants and a strange but kind host. He frowned when he realized that made him Belle in this scenario and he quickly dismissed that while train of thought.

In the kitchen there were all the supplies to make any type of coffee he desired, along with a plate of fancy danishes for breakfast. Once he helped himself to both, Sam took them and the morning paper out to the patio beside the shimmering blue pool.

"I hate to admit it, but I could get used to this," Sam murmured as he stretched out his long frame between two beach chairs. He didn't like charity or to feel like he was being pitied because of his lack of money or social position, but this didn't feel like that. He wasn't sure why letting Gabriel pamper him was different, but all he felt was content and grateful for the man's friendly if boisterous companionship. Maybe, he wondered, it was the same for Gabriel. As long as Sam had known him, Gabriel had rarely if ever brought anyone back to his apartment, friend or conquest. He had often wondered if the funny man downstairs was lonely, but he had had his own family to think about at the time. Perhaps if he could break past Gabriel's joking exteriors, he could get to the sweet, caring man he knew was in there somewhere. Great—now he was back to "Beauty and the Beast".

True to his word, Gabriel did not return until late in the afternoon, giving Sam the house to himself. When he finally did pop back in, the man found Sam holed up in the library, surrounded by two tables of open law books. He'd had a sandwich shop deliver Sam something for lunch, and the remains of the meal were scattered at the far end of one of the tables.

Sam looked up when Gabriel sauntered into the library. "Give me ten more minutes," he pleaded as he continued to type furiously on his laptop, "and I'll be done with his paper."

The smaller man chuckled. "Ten more minutes, Nerd, but if you don't come out after that I'll come and drunk you in the pool."

"With my clothes on?" Sam demanded in outrage—that punishment seemed a little hard, given the circumstances.

Gabriel shot him a lecherous smile. "That's up to you, Big Boy. I'll be in the kitchen starting dinner. Hope you like lasagna." With that, he disappeared and Sam, wide-eyed at the threat, got back to his paper. Nine minutes and forty-five seconds later, he snapped shut the screen of his computer and stood up triumphantly. He honestly couldn't believe he'd written that paper on one afternoon. Back home, it would have taken him all weekend with the many distractions that ran rampant in his three-bedroom place. Plus, Gabriel's library was stocked with a suspicious amount of books on criminal law, Sam's specialty.

He hurried into the kitchen, slip-sliding more than a little over the hardwood floor in his stocking feet. He narrowly avoided crashing into the counted ledge, but he made it with only a few seconds to spare.

"Good timing," Gabriel commented, smiling widely at Sam's impression of a baby giraffe in his kitchen. "Try this." He held a steaming spoon up to the other man's mouth and Sam automatically opened his mouth. It turned out to be tomato sauce, and rather good tomato sauce at that.

"Mmm, is that homemade?" he asked, savoring the taste in his mouth as Gabriel pulled the spoon away and went back to stirring.

"Yup. I would say old family recipe, but my family's not exactly the sit down and eat together type." He turned off the burner and carried the saucepan over to the island, where the rest of the lasagna ingredients were laid out.

"Did you not get along?" Sam wanted to know as he reached out and stole a pinch of cooked ground beef. He just missed getting smacked on the back of his hand by Gabriel's spoon.

"Not remotely. That, and I was always the black sheep of the family. When I came down here, they pretty much cut me off. Eat any more of that, Sam Winchester, and I will turn you into a squirrel," he added with a warning glare. Sam sighed and kept his hands to himself, watching Gabriel prepare a large dish of lasagna. When he was finished, he covered it in foil and set it in the oven.

"Well," he said, putting his chin on his hands as he leaned on the island. "We're got an hour. What should we do?"

Sam pondered this. "I was thinking about doing some laps in the pool—if that's ok?"

Gabriel was all over that idea, mostly because it involved Sam being partially naked. "Sounds perfect—meet out at the pool in, say, five?" Sam hurried back to his room and found a pair of shorts that while not strictly swimming trunks, would serve as such for the time being. Gabriel was already sitting on the edge of the pool when he arrived, kicking his feet back and forth in the water like a child. Well, Sam got about a total of three real laps in before he was interrupted by the other man, who insisted on playing Marco Polo, even though there were only two of them. Sam agreed and they got through approximately two rounds of that before Gabriel got bored. The rest of the hour was spent floating around on pool noodles and occasionally splashing one another if they got close enough where it wasn't a burden.

Gabriel eventually dragged himself out of the water to go get their dinner. By then it had gotten dark out and his return was first heralded by the sudden illumination of several strands of white lights that were hung around the patio. "Dinner is served," he said in a fakey French accent and Sam eagerly levered himself out of the pool when he smelled the enticing aroma of tomato and garlic.

"This is amazing!" he said after his first bite of Gabriel's lasagna. The flavor and texture of the dish far surpassed any other Italian food he'd ever had.

The man chuckled a little at his reaction. "I'm glad you like it. I've never cooked for anyone else before."

"Really? You could be a chef with skills like this," Sam complimented, taking another large bite.

"Hmm," Gabriel pondered, watching Sam eat with a grin. "I prefer to spend my time in other pleasurable pursuits."

That got Sam's attention and he set down his fork for a moment, looking straight at his host. A hunger deep down in his belly that had nothing to do with a need for food uncoiled and seemed to spread quickly to all his limbs. Out here, under the sparkling lights, with a thin sheen of water still on his lightly tanned skin, Gabriel looked simply edible himself. Sam had only spent the equivalent of a few days with him, but it seemed the more they were together, the more he was drawn to his new friend.

Sam cleared his and tried to focus on eating his meal. "Uh, so, does that mean I'm spending the night again?" Could he really trust himself to be alone another night with the man? At this rate, it was going to be Sam who makes the first move and attacks Gabriel before the other man broke his promise to keep his hands to himself.

"If you want to, Jolly Green. I told you, you can stay as long as you like—my home and I are completely at your disposal." They way he said this made it evident that Gabriel was thinking dirty thoughts. Then he abruptly dropped the leer that seemed permanently plastered on his face and gave Sam an intensely sincere look. "Seriously, mi casa es tu casa. Anytime."

The Spanish made Sam flash back to a porno he'd once sneaked from his brother's badly-hidden collection. _Casa Erotica_ and its Hungarian host had been quite eye-opening and he guessed that life with Gabriel would be as well. If his zany personality and carefree, whimsical attitude were anything to go by, Sam figured that Gabriel would be a fun, adventurous, and educational sexual partner. In truth, Sam had never been with a man before, but he liked to think he was above basing his likes in terms of gender. Attraction to personality was more his thing, and as much as Gabriel annoyed him sometimes, Sam had to admit he hadn't had this much fun or felt this at peace since he'd left home.

The two finished their dinner and retreated to the media room again. Instead of a movie this time, Gabriel dug out his XBOX and challenged Sam to a Guitar Hero battle. Sam admitted he had never played before; all he had back home was a beat-up Sega.

"You'll love this, then," Gabriel said, handing Sam a Les Paul controller. "Here," he added, coming to sit behind Sam. Sam huffed in indignation when Gabriel scooted up to his back and put his legs out around Sam's. Still, he couldn't deny he like the smaller man's warmth at his back, even if it wreaked havoc on his concentration. They were both still only wearing their swimming shorts, not having bothered to change after dinner. The man's soft skin felt pretty good against Sam's own and he was glad he had a guitar on his lap to hide anything that might perk up at his friend's proximity.

Gabriel hefted the guitar and put his hands over Sam's, directing him on how to play the game. "Now, click this one to pick a song—" he pressed Sam's finger down on the green button—"Then you use this one—" he moved Sam's right hand up and down the fake strings—"to strum while the other hand picks the notes. Think you can handle that?"

"Maybe if you weren't breathing down my neck," Sam complained. Gabriel laughed and leaned in to blow in Sam's ear before moving away so he could get on his own guitar. Sam selected "Carry On Wayward Son" and flexed his fingers as the opening riff began. He hurried to move his fingers as Gabriel had instructed him, trying to use both hands to get the correct notes. He'd thought that choosing a song he already knew would give him a leg up, but it turned out to be more difficult as he was anticipating notes that hadn't yet been played on the screen. It didn't help that he could hear Gabriel over there, cackling away while he racked up an impressive amount of points in Hard mode.

When the song ended, Sam realized that he was panting a little in his effort to keep up and his face was coated in a light sheen of sweat. He was kind of thankful that he was still only wearing his shorts and was it just him or was the room warmer than it had been when they started?

"That the best you can do, Slick?" Gabriel taunted, flashing his bright gold eyes at Sam. Sam had always had a healthy competitive streak and it faired to life now his pride was in question.

"Just pick another song," he growled good-naturedly. He hunched over his controller, face glued to the screen, ready to start as soon as the next song began. AFI's "Miss Murder" began to play and he groaned—Jade, the guitarist, was known for his complicated fingerwork and quick chord progressions. Still, he did his best, plowing through the song and getting as many points as he could. He tried to ignore his friend, who was whooping and hollering every time he got a boost. Despite his best efforts, Gabriel still wiped the floor with him.

After several more songs in which exactly the same things happened, Sam moaned in frustration and abandoned his guitar. He walked over to the mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, guzzling half of it in a few swallows. As he drank he watched Gabriel caress and croon to his guitar, which resembled a Stratocaster. A wild idea occurred to him—what if it wasn't his lack of skills that was keeping him behind? When in doubt, blame the controller.

"Hey, why don't we switch guitars for the next round? I think mine's unbalanced or something," he suggested casually.

"You're unbalanced," Gabriel shot back, still full into competitive game mode. "It's the shoddy workman who blames his tools."

"See, now, I think the fact that you won't give yours up is a clear sign the you know it's better."

"Let me see some proof, Mr. Lawyer," Gabriel demanded. He clutched the guitar to his bare chest like it was a beloved infant or something equally precious. That was all the information Sam needed to rest his case.

The taller man knelt and held out his hand. "One song so I can see if this one is better," he demanded.

"Only when you pry it from my cold dead fingers," Gabriel informed him.

Sam bitchfaced. "You asked for it," he warned right before he dove forward and made a grab for the guitar. Gabriel was faster, lifting the controller up over his head so Sam's fingers missed it. They brushed down the man's chest instead, nearly ending up in his lap. Sam growled and reached up, trying to get a hold on the neck of the guitar while Gabriel waved it about wildly above his head as he crowed, "You'll never defeat me, Winchester!" Sam sat back, pretending to give up and as soon as Gabriel began to lower the guitar, Sam lunged in, reaching out for the base.

Which was a bad idea because even though he got a hand on the controller, he was therefore unable to brace himself before he overbalanced and toppled over. Gabriel made a little _yip!_ of surprise as the taller man's heavy body thudded down onto his own and he suddenly had an armful of Moose.

Sam grunted in pain and pulled back a little, straining his neck to look down at his fallen friend. He was still breathing fast from their tussle and he could taste Gabriel's answering puffs of breath on his lips as his face was only inches away. Slowly, as though it had a mind of its own, Sam's free hand snaked up to tentatively touch Gabriel's soft bronze hair, wrapping a bit of the length securely around his fingers. He lay there, frozen above Gabriel, his brain having been successfully short-circuited as soon as their bare skin met when he fell. Time seemed to crawl to a stop as Sam hesitated, torn between wanting to scramble away and pretend this was all just fun and games and pursuing his advantage. What would Gabriel think if he did? What if this ruined their friendship? Why the hell was this man so irresistibly sexy? What—?

Sam felt Gabriel snap his hips up against his decisively and without so much as another fleeting thought, his body answered with a thrust of its own. Time suddenly resumed normal speed as Sam crashed his mouth down over Gabriel's as he tightened his fingers in the man's hair. When he felt the other man move an arm, he let go of the guitar and slammed his palm down over Gabriel's on the floor, locking their fingers together and preventing further interruption. He let his body rock over the smaller man's, mashing their pelvises together with no regard for what this action may lead to.

Sam was done second-guessing himself, done denying himself what he wanted just because he was too afraid or too timid to act. Something about Gabriel brought out his more confident side and he suddenly didn't care about consequences as his friend wriggled underneath him, moaning happily.

When Gabriel parted his lips for Sam, Sam took full advantage, plunging his tongue in and tangling it with Gabe's. He started a little in surprise at how good the man's mouth tasted. It was a combination of spicy and sweet, like honey mixed with oranges and cloves. Sam hadn't kissed a whole lot of people and had sex with even less, but he instantly knew Gabriel would be a tough act to follow. The man was content for the moment to let Sam explore, but neither did he simply lie there. He kept his hips busy teasing Sam's and his other hand wormed its way down the back of the younger man's shorts to grip his rear.

Finally, Sam had to pull back before he suffocated himself. He gasped for air as he locked eyes with Gabriel, staring down at the man in wonder and arousal. Gabriel shot him a sultry grin. "I knew you had it in you, Sammy," he praised. "Isn't this more fun that doing homework and reading musty old books?"

"You think pretty highly of yourself," Sam mocked, but it was clear from his expression that he did too. He shook his head to get his hair out of his eyes and in that moment, Gabriel struck. The other man bucked his hips up with more force this time and rolled, pinning Sam beneath his smaller yet no less strong body.

"I wouldn't underestimate me until you've seen me in action," he warned. He reached down under himself to palm Sam's growing erection and Sam moaned in answer. Gabriel grinned. "Now that we've got that settled," he said, then leaned down to press his lips to Sam's a bit more gently than before.

Sam melted into the kiss. Where he had been riled and hot-blooded a moment ago, he now found himself relaxing completely, letting the smaller man press him back into the plush cushions strewn over the floor. When Gabriel wriggled on top of him, trying to insinuate himself between his legs, Sam's only reaction was to open his thighs, inviting the man closer. He felt Gabriel's groin bump against his as the man spread Sam's legs wide apart, exposing him. Sam moaned into the man's warm mouth and flexed his calves, sliding his legs up and around Gabriel's slim hips. Gabriel thrust forward again in response, scraping along Sam's rapidly filling cock. The friction was sweet torture and Sam reached up to dig his blunt fingernails into the man's shoulders as some way to ground himself in the immense pleasure that was threatening to overtake his senses.

Gabriel seemed to like the bite of pain, for he groaned and broke their kiss to whisper, "Yeah, that's right, Sammy. Let me feel how much you need this."

"Please, Gabe," Sam whispered, not sure what he wanted, as long as it was more. More touch, more pleasure, more of whatever the man was willing to give.

"I'll take care of you," Gabriel said against his lips, "I've always taken care of you." With that he pulled away and Sam made a noise of protest before he saw where Gabriel was going. Then man sat back and braced himself, widening his legs so Sam was forced to do the same. He reached for the button of Sam's shorts and undid it quickly before pulling them down past Sam's erection and letting the hem rest under his balls, keeping constant delicious pressure on them.

Sam groaned and tossed his head as Gabriel leaned in and gave his cock a long lick from base to tip. His hips bucked and the smaller man splayed his fingers on Sam's hips, pressing down to keep him in place. Without more warning than that, he dipped down and took Sam's whole cock in his mouth, swallowing him down with no problem—and Sam was not small by any means. He took his time playing with the younger man, seeing how many different noises he could wring from Sam before he came. He bobbed his head slowly up and down, licking the underside of Sam's shaft, then swirling his talented tongue around the plump head before going down on him once more.

It didn't take Sam long to reach his peak. "Gabe, ungh, gonna—" he panted before his back bowed and he shot his load straight down his new lover's throat. Gabriel swallowed several times, working his throat muscles to milk Sam of everything and causing him to whimper at the constant stimulation. Finally, he pulled back and smiled up at Sam. He licked his lips smoothly like he had just devoured a heavenly feast and Sam gulped at the feral look in his gold eyes.

"Tasty," was Gabriel's assessment. Sam's only answer was to drool a little, still blissed out from his orgasm. The man between his legs frowned when he found he had the equivalent of a wet noodle on his hands. "Now, Sammy, don't pass out yet. That was just Round One." To prove his point, the man shifted so he could pull Sam's shorts down the rest of the way, tossing them up onto the sofa. He did the same with his own and Sam shook himself out of his daze enough to sit up and take a look at what Gabriel had to offer.

His mouth watered more at the sight. Long and cut, Gabriel's cock jutted out from a small patch of bronze curls above his groin. He was already dripping precum and Sam's own dick jerked in response.

Gabriel reached down to stroke himself and canted his head at Sam. "What do you say, Moose? You gonna let me stick it in you?" he said in his best imitation of a porn star.

Sam broke the mood by groaning and putting a hand over his face. "Real mature, Gabriel," he said. "And they say romance is dead." He giggled unexpectedly as he felt something soft and light dance across his stomach. He opened his eyes again to see that Gabriel had produced a fresh red rose out of nowhere. He brushed the petals against Sam's lips, then stuck the stem in his own mouth.

"'Ow 'bout now?" he asked around the rose, giving Sam big round puppy eyes.

The rose gesture was oddly sweet and Sam reached up to take it from his friend's mouth so he could smell it properly. He didn't know how long Gabriel had been waiting with it, but it touched him that the man had even thought to buy one for him. Rather than being girly or maudlin, it struck Sam as quite adorable and it made his decision that much easier.

"Yeah, Gabe, go ahead," he said, like it was no big deal, even though he took these things very seriously. This was his first time with a man and definitely his first time on the bottom, but strangely he trusted Gabriel to be his first for both.

Gabriel's face softened and he leaned in to kiss the younger man lightly. "Thanks, Sammy," he said.

Sam didn't see him wet his fingers, but the next thing he knew he felt a slick digit prodding around between his legs. His eyes went wide when he felt the tip of it breach him and he clenched his teeth in anticipation of the burn of pain he knew came with this sort of penetration. He waited, expecting to feel it any moment as the finger slid deeper inside of him until the web of Gabriel's hand touched the edge of his hole.

The man must have guessed why Sam tensed up and he ran his other hand tenderly up and down Sam's side. "I don't hurt you, Sammy," he promised. He pulled his first finger out and then Sam felt two at his entrance. He tensed again, but just as before they both slid in with no hint of pain. This continued as Gabriel added a third and a fourth. Sam could feel his pucker stretching to accommodate the man's fingers, and his insides clamping around the sudden fullness inside of him, but there was never any ache, never anything to was too much. Gabriel twisted his four fingers inside of Sam for a while, leisurely preparing him. After his initial nervousness vanished, Sam began to let himself relax and enjoy the sensation. It was actually pretty good, strange but satisfying.

He grunted in surprise when a sudden shockwave of pleasure rocked through his body, waking him from the happy stupor Gabriel's massaging fingers had put him in. The evil chuckle above him said Gabriel knew exactly what he was doing and then Sam felt the zig of sensation again, starting in his ass and spreading quickly through all his limbs. His cock twitched happily and his inner muscles tightened around Gabe's fingers right before he removed them. Sam clenched his jaw to keep from moaning at the loss but then he felt Gabriel lift both of his legs and set them over his shoulders. He looked up to see the smaller man wink at him before he pressed forward and his cock bumped against Sam's entrance.

"Relax for me, Sammy. This is going to feel awesome." It was enough to make Sam laugh and he hardly felt the mild sting of pressure when Gabriel thrust inside. Instead he hissed at how…well…awesome it felt to have the man fully inside of him. If he'd been asked a week ago, Sam would have said he probably wouldn't like being the receiver in a gay sexual relationship with his ex-neighbor, but right at this moment he knew it was probably the most overwhelmingly amazing thing he had ever experienced. It went right up there with opening his acceptance letter from Stanford and the first time his brother had handed him the keys and let him drive the Impala.

He let out a long, stuttering moan that he knew he would probably be teased for later on, but at the moment he didn't care. Gabriel didn't let up once he found a rhythm, plowing into Sam's ass with just the right amount of force without being too rough. On every other push he nailed Sam's prostate and Sam gave up trying to be quiet, letting Gabriel hear how good he was. "Nugh, Gabe, God that's good," Sam gasped, grabbing handfuls of the pillow beneath him.

Gabriel chuckled without losing stride. "I wish you got how funny that statement really was," he said. He jabbed Sam's happy spot again, picking up his pace and hitting it with every inward slide now. Sam was reduced to mere noises now, but his grunts and moans eloquently expressed just how much Gabriel was rocking his world. When the smaller man reached down to start tugging at Sam's cock in time with his thrusts, it only took a moment of the added stimulation before the younger man shouted his name and came violently. It took Sam completely by surprise and this time he did black out, just as he felt Gabriel's warm release coat his insides.

When Sam opened his eyes again, he knew it was morning and he'd slept through the whole night. Warm sunlight drifted in through the sheer curtains of his window that looked out onto the pool. The window was open, letting in the sound of birdcalls and a lawn mower in the distance. It was a perfect Saturday morning in Atherton and Sam enjoyed it for all of five seconds before his mind caught up to memories of last night.

He sat up in bed with a gasp, looking around wildly when he realized he wasn't in his bedroom back in Stanford. Flashes of everything he and Gabriel did in the media room played like a bad movie behind his eyes, reminding him of every sordid little detail. Sam groaned and put his head in his hands, clutching his long hair roughly.

"What the hell have I done?" he muttered. Things that had seemed not to matter in the dark warm room last night were now seeming quite a bit more significant in the light of day. "Gabriel's like twice my age—he knew me when I was in diapers!" Sam told himself.

_Sure_, the devil on his left shoulder remarked, _but he doesn't look that old. And damn he still has moves!_

"Not to mention I've only really hung out with him for a couple of days—and now I'm practically living in his house. Jesus!" Sam said wildly, "I'm a man-whore."

_You didn't seem to feel that way last night when you were moaning for more as he fucked you senseless._

"Yeah, but this is way too fast. People don't just spend a few days with guy who's practically a stranger, move in, then have wild sex." Well, maybe some did, but Sam wasn't like that. He was a forever kind of guy. He and Jessica spent weeks together before moving in, then planning the perfect night for them to make love. How had Sam gone from that careful, romantic guy to a reckless slut so fast?

His first reaction was to blame Gabriel, but in all honestly, despite his lecherous grins and sexual innuendoes, Gabriel had been a perfect gentleman to Sam. Sam had been the one to initiate things last night, telling Gabriel that it was ok. It wasn't Gabe's fault that Sam was apparently such a mess after his break-up that he'd just go have sex with a guy who claimed to be his friend. Gabriel was obviously just looking for a good time—Sam had no idea what he felt about commitment after so short a time.

The worst part was, Sam had felt sure that last night wasn't just about fucking. Sure, Gabriel had pounded into him like a freight train, but the whole time he had been considerate of Sam's feelings, pulling out the rose and never making a move without asking if Sam was ok with it. It had felt special despite their lack of preparation or romance beforehand. Sam just wasn't used to feeling so much for someone so quickly. And he wondered if Gabriel felt the same.

Sam flung aside the sheets and stood, pacing the room. He was embarrassed to see that he was still naked, but he felt clean, like Gabriel had taken care to clean him up after he passed out. It was a sweet gesture and made Sam smile despite his current morning-after panic episode. He walked over to the window, gulping in the fresh cool air before he had to resort to a paper bag. He knew he needed to calm down, to think about this all rationally, but it was hard to do when all he could focus on was the ache between his legs when he walked, a subtle reminder of Gabriel.

What he needed was space. Space away from Gabriel to work out his feelings on what had happened last night and how to proceed from here. Sam supposed he was probably way over-thinking this, but that was his nature and he couldn't change it now. Decision made, he pulled on a T-shirt and jeans from the neat pile on his room's dresser, and then went out to find his host.

Gabriel was in the kitchen, making breakfast. He was wearing an outlandish frilly pink apron and was leaning over the stove to poke at a pair of omelets in a frying pan. "Hey, Sammy, take a seat," he said, not looking up from his staring contest with the eggs. Sam did as he was told, pulling the clear jug of orange juice to him and pouring a glass. He drank thirstily and refilled his cut before Gabriel turned and handed him a plate with an omelet and a side of sausage. The joke was not lost on him.

"You certainly are quiet this morning," Gabriel said after a few minutes of silent chewing on Sam's part. "I didn't truly fuck your brains out, did I?"

Sam swallowed his mouthful of egg and set down his fork. "Can you take me back to Stanford?" he asked without meeting Gabriel's eyes.

The man pushed aside his plate and gave Sam his full attention. "Sure, Sammy. Although, if there's anything you need from your place, just let me know and I'll get it for you."

The taller man sighed and picked at a bit of dried egg on his plate with his thumbnail. "What I need is some space, I guess," he said softly. He really didn't want to hurt Gabriel's feelings when the guy had been so nice to him, but Sam knew he'd regret it if he stayed.

Gabriel came around the side of the breakfast table and knelt at Sam's side. He put a gentle hand on the man's knee, the other going up to life Sam's chin. Sam looked down into warm gold eyes.

"Is it something I did?" Gabriel wanted to know, a serious expression on his face the likes of which Sam had never seen before. "You seemed into it last night—I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Sam shook his head quickly. "No, Gabe. I was. It was…good. I just…need some time to process everything. It's all moving a little too fast for me." He knew he was explaining it badly, but seeing Gabriel on the floor with his face so close to Sam's groin was rather distracting.

Gabriel stood and nodded slowly. "Ok. I get it. I'll take you home as soon as you're ready."

It was immediately obvious that Sam's words had upset him. Gabriel was usually good about maintaining his care-free, happy-go-lucky façade, but now Sam was seeing underneath it. For a long moment, he stared up at Gabriel's face and saw the shadow of a lonely man with age-old eyes.

"Gabe, look, I didn't mean," Sam started.

Then Gabriel blinked, and the mask was back in place. He grinned. "No worries, Stretch. Go grab your stuff and meet me out front. I'll bring the car around." With that, the man turned and grabbed his keys from the counter before striding off towards the front door.

Sam's stomach sank and he quickly got up from the table as the smell of the leftover food suddenly made him nauseous. Had he really hurt Gabriel that much? He'd assumed that the man was only looking at this as a temporary fling, or maybe a "friends-with-benefits" situation. If that was true, then why had he looked like a kicked puppy for a minute there? God could Sam do nothing right?

He sighed in frustration and went to grab his backpack and schoolbooks. He left his clothes and wasn't sure what kind of statement that made. He had intended to at least stay friends with Gabriel—he certainly didn't want to cut all ties to the man he was quickly becoming infatuated with—if not more. It was the more that worried him and that was the part he needed time and space to figure out. Of course, now that Gabriel probably thought he had rejected him, maybe he wouldn't want to be friends anymore at all? _Way to go, Sam_, he thought to himself as he went around the front to wait in the driveway for Gabriel. _Way to alienate the one person who wanted to be your friend here._ Why did sex always have to complicate things? Or, rather, why did he?

Gabriel chatted about meaningless things as he drive Sam back to Stanford, but Sam knew the man well enough now to see that his heart wasn't in it. He tried to tell himself he was doing the right thing, not letting his emotions get in the way of his morals, and that once he figured everything out, he'd make amends with Gabriel.

"Here's your stop," the man informed him as he pulled up before the house. It was still late morning, but Sam could already hear the drone of music from the stereo in the living room. Garth and Ash must be starting their Saturday party early.

"Thanks," Sam said, but he hesitated before he got out. "I'll call you, ok? Maybe we can do something next week."

"Sure, maybe," Gabriel said airily, waving his hand at Sam.

Sam got that and he didn't begrudge Gabriel his bad mood. With a sigh he shouldered his bag and got out of the car. Just as he was about to slam the door shut, Gabriel leaned down to look at him through the window.

"Stay safe, Sammy. You've got my number if you need me."

Sam nodded and shut the door so Gabriel could drive off. As he watched the Mustang take a sharp turn out of his street, he hoped he'd made the right decision after all…


	5. Chapter 5

Well, Cas got a chapter to himself, so I figured Gabe might as well get the same. Get ready for angry archangel adorableness. Sorry this one's short-the next one will be normal length again^^

Gabriel couldn't decide if he was more pissed off at Sam or himself. Righteous anger and indignation zinged through his body as he pulled away from Sam's house. He pushed the Mustang past 80 all the way back to Atherton and didn't stop for anything until he hit the driveway and squealed to a halt. Tiny streaks of lightning crackled over his shoulders and arms as he slammed out of the car and into the house. Seeing the breakfast table still set with the remnants of their meal, he snarled and backhanded the solid wood table, sending it crashing out the bay windows. The sound of breaking glass and splintering wood made him feel slightly better.

Why the fuck did humans have to be so difficult?! Here he was, playing by Sam's rules, courting him and offering the man everything he could think of to make him happy, and then Sam leaves him after one night of (in his humble opinion) incredible sex? What the hell was that?! How was he supposed to feel when the one thing he truly loved walked out on him? The archangel had thought that after all these years of living among the lowest of God's creations, he understood them well.

"It would figure I pick the one stupid ape who still has morals and some shred of sexual dignity!" he raged. But, wasn't that why he had chosen Sam in the first place? That sweet, modest, adorable child, stuck in a sucky situation with a broken family and no friends. How could he not be drawn to someone so pure and in such pain? He may be a fallen angel and an amoral Trickster, but he wasn't blind and some part of him was still attracted to the brightness of the boy's soul, which, even at that age, shone like a beacon to him and every other angel within at least a state's radius. He had claimed the boy as soon as he could, marking Sam as his and no one else's. With that mark, he would always know where Sam was, always be able to protect his little human no matter how far apart they drifted.

And apparently they had drifted pretty far. As he stalked through the house, breaking everything he could get his hands on, Gabriel began to wonder if perhaps he waited too long to claim Sam again. What if their bond had weakened so much with time that Sam didn't feel the draw any more? Gabriel had deliberately waited until Sam grew up so the man would have time to get used to the idea and freely give his consent—apparently in this case patience was the archangel's downfall. As Gabriel had understood the bonding process, there was no time frame, no statute of limitations in which he had to fully bond with Sam in order for their connection to be permanent. He didn't think that was the case, but if it was, it may explain why Sam didn't seem to feel the same way about Gabriel as the archangel did about him.

"But that doesn't explain this morning," Gabriel told an antique Japanese vase before he hurled it through a window and into the pool. "He did feel the draw—why else would he have let me fuck him before he was obviously ready? That means he left even though he felt it, which means he must have left because of me. What the hell did I do wrong?" He picked up another knick-knack to throw after the vase, this time a china angel, but then sudden inspiration hit him and he set it back down.

Who else to ask advice from on the whole bonding thing that the only other angel to bond with a Winchester! (Because, clearly it was the fact that Sam was a Winchester, and therefore born of more stubborn stock than normal humans, that made him reject Gabriel.) Gabriel mentally locked on to his brother's Grace signature and blinked out, flying at top speed to Lawrence. He found Castiel in the animal shelter, sitting on the tile floor as a handful of fluffy puppies crawled all over him. Their mother looked on with a clear expression of relief that someone had come to entertain her litter while she got some rest. Other than Sam in the throes of orgasm, it was pretty much the most adorable thing the archangel had ever seen and it calmed his vexation somewhat.

"Gabriel!" Cas said gleefully upon seeing his brother appear. He attempted to rise so he could greet Gabriel properly, but the archangel waved him back down.

"Long time, no see, Cassie," he said, but it was without his usual cheery air. The other angel frowned, immediately picking up on his elder brother's mood.

"Is something wrong, Gabriel? Did something happen to Sam?" Castiel didn't know Dean's brother personally, but he was loyal to his lover and therefore concerned for his family's well-being as much as his own.

Gabriel growled and began pacing in the small nursery space. His six great wings barely fit and they looked larger then usual as the feathers were puffed out in anger and stress. "Yeah, it sure did. The little bastard walked out on me this morning. Just like that—" he snapped his fingers—"With no explanation other than he 'needed space'."

Castiel picked up one of the puppies, which had been gnawing on his pants leg, and scowled at it. "I do not understand your distress," he admitted without looking at Gabriel. "Sam told you he needed space and yet you are upset. Do you believe he is lying?"

"Yes!" Gabriel said quickly. Then he amended, "No, but I don't think it's the whole truth. You don't just have amazing sex like that, then wake up the next morning and decide to leave. Not only that, I thought we were friends. Even if he didn't like what we did—and I guarantee you he liked it—it didn't mean he had to pack up and vacate the premises."

The younger angel opened his mouth to reply, but there was a sudden flutter of wings and Balthazar appeared on the other side of the room. He was carrying an open bottle of wine and he looked like he had just come from a club or some sort of gathering. "Hey!" he said, grinning at the other two. "I felt you both in the area and thought I'd drop by. Party in the—!" He paused and looked at his surroundings for the first time. "Uh, where the hell are we?"

Castiel informed him that they were at his place of work, the Lawrence animal shelter.

"Ah, that would explain the smell," Balthazar said with a winkled nose. He took a gulp from the bottle—presumably to dull his sense of smell—then looked over at his big brother. "And what's got your wings in a twist? Girlfriend trouble?"

"Gabriel is upset because he had relations with Dean's brother last night and this morning Sam said he needed space and went home," Castiel said, catching his brother up on their conversation.

Balthazar sauntered over to peer curiously at the smaller angel's playmates. "Like I said, girlfriend trouble," he sneered good-naturedly. "What did you do to the poor boy, Gabe, that made him want to leave? Did you traumatize him with your tiny—"

The archangel smiled wickedly and advanced on Balthazar with evil intent. "One more word out of your mouth, brother, and I'll stick that bottle up your ass, flat end first!"

"Gabriel!" Castiel chastised. Both his brothers turned to look at him. "Don't swear in front of the puppies," he added with a frown. Gabriel and Balthazar blinked in surprise, but stood down, relaxing back to their separate sides of the room. When it was clear the others were done with their playful banter, he continued.

"Gabriel, I am only just beginning to understand what a true bonded relationship is, but I do know that is must be founded on mutual trust. It frightens me to let Dean go to his work when something bad might happen to him, especially after his accident the other day, yet I trust that he will do everything he can to keep himself safe. He doesn't like it when I must leave to come here because of Raphael's threats and my own disabilities, but he trusts that I will come home to him each night." He hugged one of the puppies to his chest, cuddling it the way he clearly cuddled Dean when they were alone. Balthazar had to hide a grin behind his bottle.

Cas continued. "Perhaps, if you want the same relationship with Sam, you must trust him to tell you what his needs are. Dean has taught me that it is very important to communicate and express my needs. He has informed me that he cannot read my mind and we have learned that assumptions can be erroneous and painful."

Balthazar spent a moment staring at his brother after his profound and rather moving advice before he coughed and gestured to him. "What Cassie said," he added.

Gabriel pondered this. "So, what you're saying is like that old adage: '_If you love something, you let it go. If it comes back to you, it was always yours._'?" He had to trust that Sam knew what he was doing. If Sam truly wanted to be with him, he would return to Gabriel on his own time.

"Something like that," Castiel agreed. "Don't pressure him—give Sam the space he asked for and simply wait for him to come back." He looked up at Balthazar, turning his intense blue gaze on his brother. "Do you have any advice you would like to add?" he asked, perhaps a bit peevishly as the blond angel only seemed interested in getting hammered.

Balthazar blinked, and swallowed his mouthful of wine with a loud gulp. "Uh," he said, looking around the room. His eyes rested on the bottle and his grinned. "Gifts are always nice. Women love things like chocolates and flowers. I always send some after we do it." Castiel's frown returned and the older angel held up his hands defensively. "What? It's classy! Let's them know I appreciate them or whatever."

Castiel sighed, but patted one of the puppy's heads thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps a small token might be nice. To let Sam know his is in your thoughts without putting too much pressure on him to return or speak with you before he is ready."

Gabriel nodded enthusiastically. Everyone liked gifts, right? Castiel was probably on the right track—Gabriel would send Sam something to remind him about the archangel. Maybe it would help him realize that Gabriel still wanted him and what they had together was no just a temporary fling. "Ok, yes, I'm in with the gift. I'll just go out and get…uh…" he faltered, suddenly unable to think of anything to get Sam.

"What sorts of things does he like?" Castiel asked helpfully. "Dean likes food, so I always bring him pie or cheeseburgers. He likes sex as well, so sometimes I dress up for him to entice him."

"Woah," Gabriel said, holding up a hand, "Way too much info, little bro. I do _not_ need to hear about Dean Winchester's sex life." Nor did that help him think of something for Sam. Candy or flowers wouldn't do—he wanted something special, something personal. Except, all the man ever did was hang out alone in the library. That was initially what drew Gabriel to approach him, as he sensed his bonded's loneliness. What could he get that would keep Sam happy, even if he never returned to Gabriel?

When he felt a tug on his shoelace, the archangel looked down to see a little ball of fluff chomping on his foot. The silly little creature reminded him a bit of Sam. That floppy hair, those big ears and feet, those huge innocent eyes…

"I'll take one of those," the archangel decided, pointing to the litter of puppies.

Castiel stared at him for a long moment. "You mean, you wish to adopt one of the dogs and give it to Sam?" he clarified.

"Yup," Gabriel agreed. "Give me one that likes studying and libraries."

"Brother, I do not think you understand quite what a dog does…" the younger angel said worriedly. "They require a lot of care and attention, especially at this age."

Gabriel shrugged. "How hard could it be? Besides, now I think of it, I remember that back when Sam was little he asked his father if they could get a dog. John told him 'no', said they couldn't afford one. Now I can give him a dog and Sam will like me more than his dad."

"Cause that's healthy," Balthazar muttered.

Castiel had great reservations about this plan, but he could see the resolve in Gabriel's face and knew his brother wouldn't be denied. Besides, it wasn't like Gabriel would be the one taking care of the dog. At least Sam was responsible.

"All right," he relented. He looked around to choose a puppy most suited to what he knew of Sam's personality. After a moment, he reached out and plucked one of the smaller males from his napping place under the lip of his mother's basket. The puppy yawned and looked up at him sleepily, then stuck his tongue out to gently lick Castiel's palm.

"I believe this one would be most suited to Sam's lifestyle. He is more quiet than the others but also has a high level of intelligence. If trained properly, he will be a good companion and guard dog."

"Excellent," Gabriel said, reaching down to swipe the pup out of his brother's hands. "I'll just pop over to Sam's and—"

"Wait," Castiel insisted, getting up and hurrying over to a desk in the corner of the room, "You can't just take the puppy. You need to officially adopt him."

Gabriel heaved an exasperated sigh, but allowed Castiel to show him the paperwork. He dotted 'i's and crossed 't's, signing Sam's name as the owner before paying the adoption fee. Finally, Castiel gave him a copy of the paperwork and a license tag for the dog's collar when Sam bought one.

"Thanks for your advice," the archangel said, in a much better mood now than when he had arrived. "Cassie, don't be a stranger. When your Winchester is better, come down and see us—we'll have a family reunion. Balth—keep doing whatever you're doing. Later!" With that he took flight, winging his way straight back to Stanford with a tiny bundle of fur clutched tightly to his chest.


	6. Chapter 6

You guys, I am SO SO sorry this took so long to post. I've been working on my actual novel and I only just finished it and sent it out to publishers, so I can hopefully get back to some fanfiction and finish this story and Blind Devotion. A HUGE thank you for those of you who have stuck with this story and are following it. I promise to try harder in getting new chapters out! Let me know if there's anything you want to see and I'll try to work it in before the end^^

It was Sunday morning and Sam was once again awakened by his housemates. For guys that partied hard all weekend, they were always up with the sun and never seemed to need much sleep. This time, instead of a smoke detector announcing burnt toast or the blaring drone of more music, Sam heard loud expressions of surprise and amusement. The noises got louder as they neared his room and a moment later there was a knock on his door. Sam groaned and gave up on getting any more sleep.

"What?" he called from under the covers.

"You got a package!" Garth yelled back from out in the hallway.

"Thanks. I'll open it when I get up." Really, that was what this was all about? And they couldn't let him sleep another hour?

"Um, bro, you really wanna come open it now." That was Ash's voice this time. What the hell were those two doing out there? Did it really take two of them to come tell Sam he had a delivery?

Sam sighed and pushed back the sheets, sitting up in bed. Groggily, he swung his feet out and down to the floor, flopping them around blindly until he located his slippers and toed them on. With a last longing look at his bed, he got up and went to open his door. Both men were standing outside it, looking at him expectantly. Well, that wasn't weird at all.

"It's in the kitchen," Garth informed him, then he and Ash scampered off ahead of Sam to crowd around their tiny dining table. In the middle of it, obscuring the Sunday paper and about two weeks worth of junk mail, was a large box, brightly wrapped in red paper. The top was wrapped separately and was set askew so the corners didn't match and there were four triangle-shaped holes in the design. A large red ribbon held the top on and secured an envelope with his name on it to the package.

Curiously, Sam leaned in to inspect the strange box. Who on earth had sent him something like this? Dean never sent him care packages, just a check in the mail each month and a few words on an index card. He didn't have any other family besides Bobby, and he doubted his uncle was the type to send gifts, especially for no occasion. He reached out to pick up the card but recoiled quickly when the box _jumped_. There was a soft _thud_ from inside and Sam's eyes widened as he stared at the package.

"Hurry up and open it!" Ash said, practically dancing in place with excitement.

Sam nodded numbly and, more gingerly this time, approached the box and grasped the ribbon. With an easy pull it unraveled and he carefully slid away the top. He couldn't help but gasp when he saw what awaited him inside. There, on all fours and wagging its tail happily, was a small Australian Shepherd puppy. It was wearing a thin red collar that jangled with his new tags. The dog barked at him, wriggling its whole body in anticipation of the new human playing with him. Still in awe, Sam reached in to lift the puppy out of its box. He held it up in front of him so he could read the license, which provided Sam's name and address as well as proof that the pup was up-to-date on his shots. The dog yipped at him again and Sam cuddled it close, smiling widely at the adorable little animal. He patted its head and rubbed it behind the ears, which the pup especially liked, giving Sam's huge hand a few licks in return.

Ash, who was too impatient to wait for Sam to get around to it, opened the accompanying envelope and unfolded the letter inside. "Who's Gabe?" he asked indelicately. "Do you have a boyfriend we should know about?"

Sam thrust the puppy at Garth and snatched the letter out of Ash's hand. He could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he quickly scanned the note.

_ Sammy, _

_ I'm sorry about whatever I did the other night that made you need space, and my reaction that morning when you asked to leave. I never meant to pressure you and this letter is to tell you that I still don't intend to. I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you and, if you decide that you don't want to come back, at least you'll have a companion to look after you._

_ Gabe_

It was all too much for Sam. He'd known as soon as Gabriel dropped him off yesterday that he had been wrong to walk out on him so quickly. He'd had all day to think about what had happened and how he felt about their rocky but exhilarating relationship. Truthfully, he still wasn't entirely sure where they stood with one another, but he knew one thing for certain: he didn't want to lose Gabe.

He was afraid that the other man hadn't understood about Sam needing his space and time to mull things over, but his letter said differently. He was giving Sam what he needed—something, Sam realized, Gabriel had done right from the start. He was always there when Sam needed a friend, he gave Sam a place to study, a life of fun and romance outside of his dreary routine as a student.

Suddenly, Sam didn't need space. What he needed was to be back in Atherton.

"Yes," he said in late response to Ash's impertinent question, "I think I do have a boyfriend." As soon as he said the words, he knew he wanted them to be true.

Garth stuffed the puppy under his arm so he could use his other hand to clap Sam on the back. "It's about time. It's not healthy to be so alone, bro."

Sam grinned, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from his chest. He breathed freely for the first time that weekend. "You're right—it's about time. Are you guys busy or can one of you give me a ride into Atherton?"

When Ash pulled up in front of Gabriel's house half an hour later, Sam paused before exiting his friend's beat-up sedan.

"Thought you were in a hurry to get back to your honey," Ash remarked, flinging his arm over the back of Sam's seat. The puppy in Sam's lap wriggled impatiently, ready to be out of the scary car and back to playing with his new friend.

"It's just…I left on kind of bad terms the other day," Sam said by way of explanation. "I know he sent me the puppy and all, but what if he changed his mind and doesn't want me back?"

"Then he's a dumbass," Ash said honestly. "Dude didn't know a good thing when he had it."

"I heard that," grumbled a voice from the passenger side of the car. Both men jumped and Sam looked over to see Gabriel standing just outside his rolled-down window. The angel smiled tentatively at Sam. "But, he's right. I was a dumbass and I didn't know a good thing when I had it."

"Gabriel!" Sam said. He didn't know what it was about this man, but the moment he set eyes on him, he felt a great wave of happiness welling up inside him. He couldn't believe his freak-out had almost cost him this feeling of joy and contentment in Gabriel's presence. "I'm the one who should be sorry," he hastened to say, "I didn't mean to—"

"Mind if we move our reunion scene away from prying eyes?" Gabriel asked, quirking an eyebrow at Ash, who was listening to them with great interest.

Sam had to admit that he might want some privacy for the conversation he knew they had to have. He gathered the puppy up in his arms and opened the car door. Gabriel touched his elbow to help him up, then reached through the back window for Sam's backpack.

"Should I stick around?" Ash asked, nothing if not a loyal friend. He was getting weird vibes from Sam's beau.

His housemate shook his shaggy head. "No, I think we're good. Thanks for the ride. I'll see you in class Monday, ok?"

Ash gave Gabriel a last "mess-with-my-friend-and-hang-from-your-own-entrai ls" look, then started his car and drove off.

"Let's go around to the pool," Gabriel suggested. "I hear dogs like being out of doors."

"Generally, yeah," Sam chuckled. He set the puppy down and held the end of the leash as the tiny thing bounded across the drive to the grass of the lawn. The three walked in silence around the back of the house, where Sam let the dog free to roam under his watchful eye. He wandered over to the wooden steps of the raised hot tub and took a seat, laying the leash across his lap. He played nervously with the strap as Gabriel came to sit next to him.

"So, I take it you're spending the night," Gabriel said, having deducted as much from Sam's assurances to Ash.

Sam looked down at his knees. "Yes, if that's still ok," he said.

Gabriel's hand came into his field of vision and closed over one of Sam's own. "It's always, ok, Stretch." He paused, and they let another moment of silence pass. "Should I read anything into that, or are your housemates throwing another party?" He didn't say it to be cruel, but he did want clarification. He was determined to follow Castiel's advice, which meant he wasn't going to make any more assumptions and would try to communicate better with his human.

Sam finally looked up at him with wide brown eyes. "They are having a party, but that's not why I came. Before I say anything else, I have to say that I'm sorry for freaking out the other day. It wasn't fair to you and I should have handled it better."

"I think we are both idiots for how we acted," Gabriel conceded. Before he'd met Sam, the archangel would never had admitted that he was in the wrong, but Cas was right—he needed to stow his ego and be more attentive to his bonded's needs. "I'm willing to forgive and forget if you are," he added hopefully.

"Yes," Sam breathed, relief clear in his voice. "Let's just start over and forget it happened." He glanced over to see that the puppy had wandered too close to the edge of the pool, so he got up to shoo it away from the water.

Gabriel coughed. "Uh, just to clarify, do you mean the sex, or just the morning after?"

Sam turned and gaped at him, his face crimson at the memory of their night together. "Uh, just the misunderstanding over breakfast, I guess. But," he added as he came back to sit beside the older man, "that brings me to the other thing I came to talk about."

The archangel winced—he definitely did _not_ like that tone in Sam's voice.

"Look, Gabriel," Sam said, choosing his words carefully, "I wasn't sure at first, but now I am. I want to be with you. The thing is, I just got out of a bad breakup and I'm not ready to rush into anything new. It's not that I don't want to, but it may take me some time to work up to being…intimate. I just…want you to know that, going in. IF you still want to."

Gabriel's answer was physical rather than verbal. He threaded his hand into Sam's hair and yanked him forward for a gentle, if passionate kiss. Sam had no problem with that, leaning into it and letting Gabriel slowly climb into his lap. The smaller man didn't take it any father and Sam was grateful for his restraint.

After a few minutes of such carrying on, a playful tug at Sam's pant leg reminded him that he had a puppy to feed. "Thanks for the dog, by the way," he breathed against Gabriel's neck. "I always wanted one, but we couldn't afford one when I was little. Best post-fight gift ever." He couldn't see Gabriel's smug smile, which was probably just as well. The archangel reluctantly pulled away and bent to scoop up the tiny animal, handing it to Sam.

"I bought some food for it, but I thought you'd want to pick out the toys and stuff. Let's feed the little runt, and then take him into town. According to the 'net, there's pet boutique nearby."

Sam followed Gabriel inside, smiling to himself. He was quite pleased with the way their conversation had gone. He had been afraid that Gabriel might not want to deal with him after that, but it seemed that everything was back to mostly-normal in their relationship. Sam officially had a boyfriend. He'd never really thought he'd be saying that, but based on how happy he felt with Gabriel, he figured he should get used to it. He wasn't going to give up his new lover easily and, from the sound of it, neither was Gabriel.

"So, what did you name the mutt?" the angel asked as they entered the kitchen. He had repaired the damage he'd caused after Sam left and everything was as good as new. He discreetly materialized a doggy bowl and filled it with water from the tap. Another bowl he filled from a fresh bag of dog food in the pantry. Both he placed on the floor for the puppy, which bounded over and began to make quick work of his food.

Sam took a seat at the dining table, watching his dog devour its lunch. "I named him Campbell. It's my mother's maiden name," he added when Gabriel gave him a curious look. Campbell finished in what had to be record time, after which Sam reattached his leash and the two headed out for the pet store. It went unsaid between them that all the supplies they bought would remain at Gabriel's house.

Their outing was pleasant for both parties, so much so that they decided to have lunch in town then take a walk through the local park before heading back. Sam had been afraid that after their brief yet tense time apart things might be strained between them, but was happy to find out that it was not the case. Rather, things remained steadily calm and Sam never felt awkward. Gabriel was his usual strange self, teasing and silly but at the same time always attentive to Sam and his needs. He treated Sam like a friend and didn't try to pressure him for anything more than a laugh, which in turn put the younger man at ease.

"You know," Sam said as they ate dinner together that night on the patio, "I still have no idea what you meant in that letter you left me the night you got me drunk. Something about us having a bond since I was little? You said it would all make sense, but I must have missed something because I still don't get it." While Gabriel cooked for them, Sam had remembered the odd note his friend had left him. Their fight and the new puppy had distracted him, but now Sam wanted to get to the bottom of at least this one mystery.

Gabriel smiled, happy that Sam had remembered the note, even if he hadn't figured out his secret yet. He was temped to simply tell Sam and save him the trouble, but Gabriel was born to make trouble and he couldn't wait to see the look on Sam's big moose face when he finally figured it out.

"No cheating," he said mildly. "But, I'll be happy to answer yes or no questions if you get warmer." The archangel couldn't resist a game.

Sam chewed on his shrimp fried rice as he thought. The man's cryptic note still bothered him. "What do you mean by 'bond'?" Sam asked.

Gabriel shook his finger at the human. "Nope, only yes or no questions."

"Fine, by bond do you mean something vague, like friendship?"

The archangel canted his head, thinking. "Not exactly, but friendship is included."

"Do you mean something…physical?"

"Again, not strictly, but it is included."

Sam roughly swallowed a mouthful of rice. He wasn't sure why he had asked that, but he hadn't really expected an affirmative answer. "It's not…something freaky, is it? You said I was a kid."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "No, you perv. I told you—I didn't start liking you _that way_ until lately. Next question."

Sam considered carefully. "Does it have something to do with why you suddenly came back to Stanford?"

"Partially," Gabriel said, but he did not elaborate.

"Can you give me a clue?" Sam begged. "I feel bad that I can't guess it, but I'm really drawing a blank." The look on his face really did reveal how upset he was getting about his lack of memory, so Gabriel decided to throw him a bone.

"I'll narrow it down for you. Do you remember the night your brother fell out of a tree and broke his arm?" the archangel asked.

Sam pondered that as he chased a stray shrimp around on his mostly-empty plate. "Vaguely. Dad had to take Dean to the emergency room…so he left me with you. Wasn't that the first time I was in your apartment?"

"Now we're getting somewhere," Gabriel said. He pushed away his plate and unwrapped a candy bar, which he had just dug out of his pocket. He took a bite of the chocolate. "What else do you remember?"

The man shrugged. "Not much. I was panicking because I thought Dad would blame me for Dean falling. You tried to calm me down by giving me cookies and letting me watch TV. Was there something else?" Sam asked innocently.

Gabriel sighed. "Keep digging, Fido. The memory's buried in your big head somewhere."

He cleared their dinner plates and asked Sam if he wanted to watch something before bed. Sam agreed and they watched _Avatar_ from opposite ends of the couch, with Campbell snoring in between them. After the film was over, it was time for bed. Sam still had to go to class in the morning and Gabriel had promised to drive him.

"Good-night, Stretch," Gabriel said quietly after he had walked Sam to his room.

Most of Campbell's doggie necessities had been set up in there already, including a doggie door, which was already mysteriously present when Sam entered. He set the puppy on the floor and turned to the shorter man. Gabriel sounded kind of forlorn now that they had to part for the evening. It was understood that they wouldn't be having sex anytime soon, and Sam had his own room. Still…

"So, I was thinking during the movie," Sam said quickly, "I know I said I wanted to go slow, but as long as we both promise not to try anything, there's no reason we can't _literally_ sleep together. If you want, that is." By now he knew that Gabriel wasn't just in this for the sex, but he didn't want to needlessly tempt his host either.

He was rewarded with a huge sultry smile from Gabriel. "Well, I certainly wouldn't want to deprive myself of late-night Sammy-Snuggles," he said happily. Then he added, "As long as you're sure about this."

The other man nodded resolutely. "I am." He opened his door wider with a grin. "Make yourself at home."

"Don't mind if I do," Gabriel replied. He went straight for the bed and got in, leaving Sam plenty of room on his side. Sam slid in gingerly beside the archangel and pulled the sheets up over both of them. Gabriel immediately attached himself to Sam's side like a barnacle, pressing up against him like _he_ was the puppy, not Campbell in his doggie bed in the corner. Gabriel's playfulness put Sam at ease (as had been his plan all along) and he settled down onto the mattress, relaxing as he got ready to sleep. There was serene quiet for a few minutes in the room and Sam was just beginning to doze off when he heard Gabriel's voice in his ear.

"I wasn't going to mention it, Sammy, but I thought you should know: I usually sleep in the nude," the archangel informed him.

There was a beat of silence, then Sam's groggy whisper. "Well, I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable, Gabe."

Gabriel knew he was probably pushing it with his boyfriend, but at the moment his victory was too exciting that it clouded his already dubious judgment. With great celerity, he undressed, chucking his T-shirt and house pants over the side of the bed disdainfully. Then he whispered back, "Now I feel weird being the only one naked…"

Sam sighed and rolled over on his back. "Fine, you can undress me if you don't wake me up." Gabriel squeed in delight and made quick work of Sam's clothes, while still being careful not to disturb his sleep. Once they were both nude, he once again snuggled up to Sam's side and finally allowed them both to get some rest.

Sam awoke the next morning to the smell of pancakes and bacon. He was alone in bed and a quick glance around told him that Campbell had abandoned him in favor of the breakfast smells. He showered and dressed quickly before gathering his school things and making his way to the kitchen. Sure enough, Campbell was begging food from Gabriel as the man stood with his back to Sam, poking at some frying bacon.

"Good, you're up," he said without turning around. "We have just enough time to eat before I drive you to class.

"Thanks for always cooking," Sam said. "Everything you make is great. I never was very good at it."

Gabriel gave a mock gasp as he came over to serve Sam his breakfast. "The Brainiac admitting that there's something he can't do? Say it isn't so!"

"Just so you know, there are plenty of other things I'm good at," Sam warned, waving a slice of bacon at Gabe to argue his point.

"Oh, believe me. I _know_," the man said with a sultry grin. Sam choked on his bacon and relented to eat silently after that.

Gabriel drove Sam to campus as promised and dropped him off in front of the History building. "Thanks for the ride," Sam said as he unstrapped his seatbelt. "I have three classes and should be done around 4:30. Should I come over after that?" He didn't really have any transportation but surely one of the guys could give him a ride. He didn't want to make Gabriel drive all the way back just for him.

The archangel sighed. "I'll pick you up at the Union. Seeing you is the best part of my day and I want all the Sammy time I can get."

Sam grinned a bit goofily. How did Gabriel always know the right thing to say? "Ok then. I'll see you at the Union." He shouldered his bag and got out of the car. He waved as Gabriel pulled away from the curb and kept the silly grin on his face all the way to his class.

At 4:30 sharp, Gabriel returned to the Stanford campus. He'd spent the day "Sam-proofing" his Atherton home, adding all the little touches he thought Sam might enjoy. Anything to keep the man interested in staying with him. He also read up on dogs and made the necessary adjustments—if he'd known how much trouble a puppy could be, he might have rethought his gift. But, Sam was already attached to the little hairball, so Gabriel would have to put up with the smelly, bouncing ball of energy.

"So, Dean called," Sam informed Gabriel as he slid into the passenger seat a few minutes later. "He said that he and his angel Castiel are coming to visit me at Stanford on Wednesday." He sounded excited, his hazel eyes shone with happiness.

Gabriel nodded to himself. Dean was probably still recovering from the accident Cas had told him about and was going stir-crazy in their tiny apartment. Still, did he have to come bother Sam? Gabriel wanted to keep the younger Winchester to himself for a while, at least until he was sure that Sam was his for good.

"I'm sure it will be nice to see your brother again," he said, not really interested, but trying to keep the conversation going.

"Yeah," Sam answered. "I'm excited to see Dean, but I have to admit I'm maybe more excited to see a real, live angel. I've read all about them and I've always wanted to meet one."

Gabriel bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Boy was Sam going to be surprised when he found out the truth about his new boyfriend. It was bound to be hilarious.

"Tell me what you know about angels," he said as they hit the highway back to Atherton. Maybe he could give Sam a shove in the right direction.

"Well, I know that they Fell to Earth and they have to live among the humans. They have wings but they can hide them if they need to. Their source of power is their Grace, which is kind of like a human soul but its used differently."

"Hmm, fascinating." Or, it would have been if Gabriel wasn't an angel himself.

"Yeah," Sam agreed enthusiastically. "So get this. When the angels Fell they lost some of their power, but they can gain it back by bonding with a human. They combine their Grace and the human's soul, making both of them more powerful." The man rolled down his window, letting in the warm air and sunshine.

Ah, here was something Gabe could work with. "How does that work? Has Dean bonded with his angel?"

Sam thought for a minute. "I think they have the first part of the bond, where the angel puts his mark on the human so the other angels know he's taken. Dean mentioned that he has a scar of Castiel's handprint on his arm."

"I heard it's not always a physical mark," Gabriel said casually. "Sometimes an angel needs to hide the physical stuff for his own reasons. But the bond goes deeper than that. It can be felt by the human like a closeness and affinity for the angel, a need to always be near him. It is the same for the angel."

Sam smiled at his boyfriend. "I didn't know you knew about angels."

Gabriel shrugged, not wanting to give too much away. "I do teach religion, after all." He let the subject drop after that. After they stopped by the house to stow Sam's bag and let the dog out, Gabriel took Sam to the fanciest Italian restaurant in the area.

They drove up to the valet parking and Gabriel got out to get Sam's door. The man looked up at the place in awe at the swanky façade. When Gabriel took his hand to lead him inside, Sam whispered, "Is this a date?" to which Gabriel replied, "Duh, Sammy."

Sam had never been anywhere this nice and he couldn't help being suspicious as to Gabriel's motives. "Are you, uh, hoping to get lucky afterwards?"

The archangel slapped a hand to his chest as they approached the hostess' podium, pretending to be wounded by Sam's inquiry. "Sam, would I ever stoop to something so low? So…dastardly?" Sam's raised eyebrow said 'yes'. Gabriel dropped the act and his hand. "Ok, fair enough. And, no, not this time. If we're going to take it slow, that means dating, and I wanted our first official one to be memorable."

Sam had to admit that he was touched. Gabriel never stopped amazing him. The man smiled and squeezed Gabriel's non-dramatic hand. "Thanks, Gabe," he said quietly. Gabriel leaned in and placed a kiss against Sam's temple.

"Anything for you, Jolly Green," he replied, then turned to the hostess to tell her his dinner reservation.


End file.
